


Weight

by Lynnth2014



Category: The Walking Dead
Genre: Completed, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-23 21:00:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 42
Words: 331,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17087669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lynnth2014/pseuds/Lynnth2014
Summary: Carol has returned to Alexandria with shocking news, a new gap forms between her and Daryl, and she struggles with what happened with her girls as well as what's happening to her now. Maggie and Glenn face a heartbreaking possibility when she doubles over in pain after a hair cut. With their lives now shaken up, new bonds are formed and deep feelings are realized.





	1. One Condition

The gate seemed larger than she remembered, further away, and tightly locked up. She felt that if she kept walking, the gate would get no closer. She felt she couldn't close the gap between her and those walls. She wasn't sure she wanted to, but she had to. She had to keep walking, had to rasp on the gate and step inside once more. She had to do this. She didn't want to, but it wasn't just about her wants anymore. If it were, things would have been much simpler. Things would have been better, and they wouldn't have turned out quite like this.

However there was no sense in arguing, let alone with herself. The facts were what they were. Or perhaps they weren't, and she was wrong. She didn't know entirely for sure, but she had to find out. This was the only way. She hadn't been there on their first trip, and while she could just sneak in and find Michonne or Maggie or Glenn, or someone she'd never gotten entirely close to like Abraham and ask for directions, but if it were true, she would need a place to return to. A safe place, and this was the only one she knew of. And should the worst occur, it was the only place she'd want to be.

Adjusting the bag on her shoulder, Carol approached the gate of Alexandria. She released a long, silent sigh and pushed on, trying not to hesitate any more than she already had. She could see the shadow of someone just inside the gate, and she knew it was likely Eugene. The shadow of their hair seemed to fit, that was for certain.

She reached out to rattle the fence when a loud roar sounded from behind her. She would have jolted had her luck not already been proven to be rotten. Now all she could was cringe. Cringe and wait for him to dismount and demand to know where the hell she'd gone and why. She did not want to have this conversation, not here, not with him, not knowing there was still an engine humming in the background. Only it belonged to a car, so likely Rick was driving, or perhaps even Glenn. He likely stayed behind to keep an eye on Maggie, as she was expecting their child, but who can say? Glenn's gentle heart might have guilted him into going to find her.

She inhaled deeply and raised her head to the sky, clearing her throat and turning to face the small group behind her.

Daryl swung his leg over the motorcycle and narrowed his eyes at her, taking in her duffel bag, the blood that smeared across her neck and jacket, and the holes in the massive jacket she wore. He stomped over to her and grasped her shoulders, keeping eye contact the entire time, and his grip tightened on her shoulders.

"The hell happened to you?" His voice was rough, but full of concern and tenderness as well. "Why aren't you inside with the others?"

Carol blinked. "What?"

The gate opened suddenly, Rick and Abraham were on the other side, and she could tell by the look in his eyes that he'd seen the note. She wondered how in the world Rick had seen her note, but not Daryl. He was here when she left the group, but maybe he left before her note was discovered. She didn't know why he left, but maybe it was for the best. She could handle Rick's glances and questions better than she could Daryl's. He was easier to lie too, perhaps that was it. Put on a smile, force enough authenticity behind it, and it was enough for Rick. He had other things on his plate. She didn't know how well he'd swallow her lies after this, but frankly she was out of lies. At least for the moment.

Rick took over instantly, guiding Daryl, Rosita and Denise back inside, clamping a hand down on Carol's arm and leading her away from them to have a word with her when Daryl fell out of sight.

"Are you all right?" He scrutinized her.

"It's not my blood." She couldn't say she was okay, not even in a lie. She was too tired for that. "There were a few walkers...and a couple people who...wouldn't let me by, but...it's done."

"What the hell were you thinkin'? Runnin' off on your own like that?" His voice was firm but soft. "You could have come to us, Carol. With anythin'." He bent down toward her so she couldn't avoid eye contact. "With anythin'."

She wanted to laugh. She actually wanted to laugh in his face and remind him of the last time she'd done something he didn't approve of. Things had changed now, but she still remembered how her heart fell when the car door didn't open, at how he looked at her, at how he stood there watching her drive off without batting an eyelash. She remembered all of it, so how in the hell could she come to him with what happened with the girls? How could she expect him to understand? He wouldn't. Nobody would. That's why she didn't tell anybody, why she deterred Tyreese from telling anybody. It wasn't easy to explain, and if she was being honest, she wasn't sure she could get through the events that occurred at the pecan grove. She wasn't sure she'd ever be able to get through it.

Rick frowned when Carol didn't speak, her face draining of color, and he set a hand on her shoulder comfortingly. "I'm glad you're back."

"Daryl didn't know I was gone, or the group with him," she murmured. "Who does know?"

"Only a few. Tobin found the note, brought it to me, and I went out with Morgan to find you. Morgan insisted he could find you on his own, that I should head back and wait for Daryl and the others to return."

"Return from where?"

"They were out on a run. Denise knew where to find some medicine, and there's never too much of that these days."

"Is Morgan still looking for me?"

"Yeah... I'll take Daryl and bring him back, let him know you're here with us." He squinted when the sun caught his eye. "But why are you here with us? You told us not to follow you, but you came back. Why? I'm not complainin', just...wonderin'."

"I need to see a doctor," she stated.

"We'll take you to Denise, and she'll figure out what's wrong, if you don't already know. She'll get it fixed."

"Not that kind of doctor, Rick."

The gate slammed shut, Rick stared at Carol, and Abraham called to him to let him know he and Eugene were about to head out for their run. He wasn't entirely sure where they were going, but he wasn't about to let Eugene go there himself. He wanted to slip out before, when Denise and Daryl and Rosita had gone out, but then Carol had left, and it got a little crazy around here. Abraham made him delay his trip, but Eugene wouldn't wait any longer. It was now, or he was going to attempt to leave on his own.

"...why don't you get cleaned up?" Rick suggested, stepping toward Abraham. "We'll talk more about this later."

She headed toward Rick's home. She was tempted to stay with anyone else, because Daryl was in that house too. There was no other place she could be at. She didn't want to see Tobin, because he'd want to know why, and she couldn't tell him. She could tell him such sweet lies, but that required energy she didn't have. Her act required too much, and she didn't want to be near him. They were never really together, not in the way he thought, and he had to know that now. Eventually she'd go to him with some lie. She didn't care if he bought it or not. Having closure had to be enough. She'd be as kind as possible. He deserved that much.

She set her bag down in her room and threw away the remains of Tobin's jacket, having pried the gun out of the sleeve hours ago. She placed her clothes in the hamper and stepped into the shower. She turned on the water, testing the temperature, and she slid down onto the floor, pulling her legs to her chest. The water rained down on her hair and over her trembling shoulders, gliding down her back.

Wave after wave of warm water shot down on her, the blood from the walkers and the blood from the men who had wanted to know where she was from spinning down the drain, and she cried into her knees. It was different from when the wolves attacked, from when she'd almost killed Morgan, from when she lost the girls. Her tears were for an entirely new ache, and she couldn't keep them to herself any longer. She'd kept them at bay while she trudged her way back to Alexandria, while she'd spoken to Rick, while she'd passed members of her family, but they had had enough of being ignored. She'd lost this battle.

– – –

Daryl heard from Glenn that Carol had gone home to shower. He knew Michonne had collected towels and washcloths yesterday to wash them and abandoned them in a pile in the laundry room so she wouldn't miss her shift on guard duty. Someone was supposed to get around to folding and distributing them, but no one ever did. He decided to bring her some, trying to fold them as neatly as he'd seen her fold them. He'd never had to fold a towel before, but he'd watched her do it at the Greene's and the prison and here, so he did as he'd seen her do.

He carried them up to her room and knocked on the door, but there wasn't a response. He called to her, but still nothing. He nudged the door open, peeking in with narrow eyes so he didn't walk in her naked or anything. He opened his eyes fully when she wasn't there, but he heard the shower. He placed the towels on her bed, stepping back to leave before she came out of the bathroom, and he heard her crying. It rooted him where he stood, and he gazed at the door.

He'd seen Carol cry many times in the past over the various fallen members of their family, but he had only ever heard her sob like that when she lost Sophia. He had to hold her back from trying to reach her little girl, and he never forgot that day. The way she called out to her daughter, as if pleading to be wrong, as if she could will Sophia back from...that. Then she went limp in his arms, bawling into the earth after Rick pulled the trigger. She was inconsolable, wouldn't attend her funeral or knowledge that walker as her little girl. He'd been angry with her, but he understood her actions now. After Merle, he understood.

Yet he didn't understand now. She hadn't lost her daughter again. They hadn't lost anybody else in a while now. Things were looking up, so why was she weeping in the shower? What had happened to her in his absence? The blood on her clothes... He assumed it was from walkers, but what if it wasn't? What if she was outside of the walls and was attacked? She had a bag with her, but he hadn't had the chance to talk to her about it. Once Rick spotted them, he practically yanked her away. What the hell happened to her while he and Denise and Rosita fetched those meds? To make her cry like that... If this person or persons weren't already dead, they would be soon enough.

He closed the door to her bedroom and hurried to find Rick. He was going to demand to know what Rick knew, what Carol had told him, and if Rick didn't know, he'd ask Carol once she was out of her room. Until then Rick was his only option.

Daryl made his way through Alexandria, trying to find Rick, but instead he found Enid running out of Maggie's office. He approached the young girl who was in a panic, hearing what was wrong, and they bolted back inside to check on Maggie who had crumbled over in agony once Enid cut off her hair.

––

Rick paced the length of his and Michonne's bed, rubbing the back of his neck, replaying the information he'd gotten from Carol earlier. He shook his head to try and wrap his mind around it, but it wasn't sticking. The only thing he felt was consternation, possibly even more so than when Tobin came to him with Carol's note. He wasn't sure that was possible, but here he was now. Goddamn it.

Michonne entered the door. "I heard Carol was back."

"Yeah." He rubbed a hand down his jaw.

"Is she okay?" She frowned at his behavior. "Rick?"

He dropped onto the mattress to still his movements and his hands fell to his lap. "She's pregnant."

Michonne was thrown. "What?"

"Well, she thinks she might be," he corrected. "We have to get her to Hilltop, let Harlan check."

"What makes her so sure?"

"I dunno. I haven't spoken to her since. She's gettin' cleaned up now."

She crossed her arms. "She'd have to be pretty sure to come back after leaving like she did."

"I know."

"We'll get her to Hilltop then. While you and Daryl bring back Morgan, Sasha and I will get Carol to Hilltop. We'll do whatever needs to be done to get answers." She closed the space between them. "It'll be okay."

"We lost Lori," he asserted, envisioning the walker slumped against the wall with a fat belly, her hair in his teeth. "She...couldn't deliver Judith without a C-section, and we lost her."

"We're not at the prison anymore, Rick. We have doctors and medicine. We have the means to keep her alive, if something goes wrong." She smiled reassuringly. "It'll be okay. If anyone can survive on sheer will alone, it's her."

"It's not just the delivery I'm worried about," he confessed. "What if the baby doesn't make it? What if she miscarries? Or...has a stillborn? We're all infected, and I can't see Carol go through losing her child again. This time would be so much worse..."

"Again?" Michonne felt the air vacate her lungs. "When did she...?"

"She had a daughter, Sophia. She was twelve years old." He caught her eye. "I...I left her to fend off a few walkers. She wandered off before I got back, and... We found her on the Greene's farm. She'd been bitten on the shoulder. I killed her."

She nodded, remembering the loss of her son. "We'll make sure that doesn't happen again."

"I don't know if we can avoid it."

"Let's just make sure she is pregnant, all right? We can worry about the rest after."

"You're right." He stood up and squeezed her hand. "You and Sasha should get ready. I'll talk to her."

Before Michonne could reply, Daryl burst into the room, breathless and gripping the frame of the door. "It's Maggie. She needs help!"

– – –

The brunette was still doubled over in pain, only now in her husband's arms, and Denise was by her side, but Denise didn't know much on this matter. She knew the basics, but basics weren't going to do much here. Maggie needed Harlan, and she needed him as soon as possible. He had the equipment and the knowledge to assist her and the baby.

"We gotta get her to Hilltop." Glenn's voice was a mixture of tearful and urgent. "We need to go right now!"

"Michonne's gone to get the RV," Rick affirmed his friend. "Enid and Carl are getting weapons for the trip, and Denise will come along with us to keep an eye on her."

Glenn nodded. "Okay." He looked down at his wife who was shuddering against him.

Rick straightened and dragged a hand through his hair, his stress increasing twofold. He hadn't worried about Maggie. She was young, and he didn't think to worry about her. He should have considered this. He'd just been thrilled when Glenn and Maggie told them of their baby and the sonogram. He'd remembered Lori telling him about Carl, and he was happy for them. They were living the life they deserved to live, and now this was happening to them. It wasn't fair. They didn't deserve what might happen to their baby.

He calmed himself. He'd get them to Hilltop, and Harlan would take it from there. He would help Maggie, help the baby, and it'd be fine. He simply had to get them there.

Carol jogged into the room. "I heard about Maggie. Is she all right?"

Rick moved to let her see Glenn and Maggie who were curled up on the floor. "We're taking her to Hilltop. Michonne's getting the RV, Carl and Enid are getting weapons, and I'll drive us there."

"Us?" Carol didn't take her eyes off the young woman.

"We have to get you to Hilltop too."

"Maggie's the priority," Carol argued softly. "She and her baby. We know without a doubt she is pregnant, and Harlan should focus on her."

"It doesn't work that way, Carol." He lowered his voice more. "If you are, we need to know. It might not just be you anymore."

She met his eyes. "Fine, but on one condition."

"What?"

"Neither Daryl nor Tobin can find out about this. Whether I am or I'm not, they don't find out. If I am, I'll figure it out, but I don't want either of them to know yet." She searched his eyes. "Okay?"

He cursed under his breath. "Carol—"

"Neither of them," she interjected. "Neither find out."

He couldn't make that promise, but there wasn't a chance in hell of her cooperating unless he did. She might sneak out to find a pregnancy test later, or do what Lori did and send their runners out to get one. She was crafty, and if he didn't agree to this, he couldn't be there to protect her and the life she might be growing. He couldn't protect Lori in the end, and he wouldn't let that happen again. He couldn't lose Carol, not like he'd lost Lori. She would see and hold her child, if she was pregnant. He didn't know if he could keep that promise, but he'd break his back trying.

"Okay."


	2. Impulsive

Maggie and Glenn were in the back of the RV, Maggie was shuddering on the mattress, holding tightly to Glenn's hand, and Glenn was glued to her side. Michonne and Sasha were securing the weapons for the trip inside the RV, Carl and Enid were arguing about her coming along, and Rick was trying to come up a way to keep Daryl from joining them. He knew he'd put Morgan on the back burner until he was sure Maggie and the baby were all right. Morgan was capable of taking care of himself, they both knew that, but he'd have to try.

"Daryl." Rick waved him over. "We'll take care of Maggie. Why don't you go and look for Morgan? He...er, went out a couple days ago, and he hasn't been back yet. We don't need him putting himself in unnecessary danger." He wouldn't even kill people. The sooner he was back here doing yoga with his stick, the better.

"You're sendin' me after Morgan? With Maggie sick?"

"You can track him better than anybody else."

"Yeah, he can find his way back just fine."

He had a point, and unless he spilled the beans on why Morgan was really outside the walls, Daryl wouldn't go looking for him. He'd assume Morgan marked his trail and would be back in his own time. Rick couldn't tell Daryl Carol bolted three days ago. If he did, he'd have to explain why she came back, or Daryl would hunt her down and command her to tell him the truth. They didn't need her slipping out again—he couldn't sleep at night knowing she was out there alone, possibly pregnant—so he'd just have to keep pressing him. At least when he failed, he could say he tried his best. Not that his best would mean much to Carol.

"If he marked his trail, he'll be back when he's ready. He tracked us, or he tried to before he lost our trail at the church. I think he's capable of gettin' back here in one piece. Maggie needs us, and who knows what you'll run into."

"We'll able to handle it. It'll be me, Michonne, Sasha, Denise, Glenn, Carol—"

"You're takin' Carol?"

"She volunteered."

"Then I'm goin' too."

"Daryl—"

"The last time we went out together as a group, Carol and Maggie were taken. I ain't gonna let that happen again with somebody else." He moved by Rick and climbed in the RV.

Son of a bitch. It would be hard to cover Carol getting an ultrasound with Daryl lurking to ensure their family was safe. He'd have to keep him close to the RV, and it'd be tricky, but both women needed Harlan, and they couldn't waste time here bickering. He and Michonne would get a handle on the situation once they were there, and he wouldn't break his word. He owed Carol that. He considered the note she'd written before bailing. He owed her more than just this. This was how he began to make amends for his...mistake.

––

"I'm coming, and that's final," Enid spat. "She's my friend, too, and I have a right to be there."

"Yes, you do have a right to be there, but you're staying. It isn't safe, and we don't have a lot of room in the RV. We don't need to crowd Maggie. She has Glenn and us, and we'll keep each other safe. You need to stay here and do the same for our people here," Carl retorted. "Keep Judith safe for me, okay? I know Gabriel has her, and I trust him, but... Just keep an eye on her for me."

Enid huffed. "I don't take up much space."

"I know you're worried about her, but we all have to do things we don't like for the better of the group."

"Then why don't you stay, and I'll go? You're Judith's older brother anyway. You should be here protecting her."

"Maggie's my family, and I'm going to go with them and be there to ensure her and the baby's safety."

"Actually," Rick neared the squabbling teenagers, "you're not."

"What?" Carl whirled around. "Why not?"

"I need you here with Spencer and Gabriel. With Abe and Eugene, and the group of us that's leavin', I need you here to take care of things. You and Enid both." He glanced between the two kids. "We can't afford for anyone to get gravely injured or...worse with us takin' Denise. I trust you to keep everyone safe."

Carl wanted to groan, but he understood. "Yeah, we'll hang back."

"I'm gonna say goodbye to Maggie then." Enid sent a smirk to Carl then ducked out of the armory/pantry.

Rick and Carl parted ways with a brief hug and exchange of words on guard shifts. Carl was disappointed, but at least Enid had to stay behind with him. His dad was right. They needed to hold down the fort here, and with most of their people—the people who could handle themselves in any situation—out, Carl and Enid were better left here with Aaron, Spencer and Gabriel.

Denise checked in on Maggie, Carol was gathering the medical supplies Denise wanted to bring along just in case Maggie or one of them needed it, and Aaron joined her.

"Are you staying behind?" Carol zipped the bag up.

"Yeah. I wish I could be there with Maggie and you all, but I should stay. Eric and I will cover Sasha and Abe's shifts, and Carl and Enid will cover Eugene and Michonne's. We have a few volunteers to cover the shifts we'll be missing." He stuffed his hands in his pockets. "A lot of people care about Maggie, and they'll do what they can for her."

"It's no surprise. Maggie's a kind person. She's tough too. I'm sure she'll pull through." She shouldered the bag. "You'll take care of things here."

"Me and the others, yeah."

"And we'll take care of Maggie." She offered him a smile and started to leave.

"Are you going to talk to him?" Aaron asked. "Tobin, I mean. He...was pretty distressed when he found your note." She halted, and he continued. "It's none of my business, but you should talk to him. You don't have to explain, just let him know you're okay. I don't think he knows you're back yet."

"I have to escort Maggie to Hilltop. She and the baby are our top priority. Tobin will understand."

"I'm sure he will." He returned her smile from moments ago. "Be careful out there."

"Be careful here." She exited the infirmary and made a beeline for the RV. She really didn't want to speak with anyone else, especially not Tobin. She wanted to get this trip over with. Her stomach was already in knots. She had to know Maggie and the baby were all right. She could hope, but hope did little in this world. This doctor would know what to do. Rick and Glenn seemed confident, so she would trust their judgement. And she would worry about herself later.

Everyone had assembled in the RV, finding their seats and double-checking the route to Hilltop. Carol's eyes locked in on the muddy boots in the passenger seat, and she cut a foul look to Rick who was now boarding. He didn't offer an explanation so much as an apologetic shrug and moved onto the driver's seat. She sat across from Michonne, handing the bag to Denise when she slid onto the bench beside her, and Rick pulled out of Alexandria.

This was going to be a long, painful trip, Carol suspected, looking back at Maggie and Glenn, for all of them.

– – –

Halfway to Hilltop, they came across a few fallen trees and had to turn back to use a different route. Sasha had taken the wheel, Rick was looking over the map so they didn't get lost, and Daryl had replaced Denise beside Carol. Denise was back with Glenn and Maggie, explaining the trees and new route and to examine her again. Carol crossed her legs and slouched, feeling like she'd been inside this RV for half of her life, and she rubbed a sore spot on her wrist. She'd noted both Daryl and Michonne glancing at her, and she wondered why.

Denise joined them, sitting by Michonne as Daryl had stolen her seat, and she said Maggie was hanging in there, but the sooner they arrived at Hilltop, the better. Carol was tempted to go back there to see Maggie for herself, unable to get the image of her shaking on the floor out of her head, but she decided against it. She wasn't sure moving was a good idea right now. She didn't trust her stomach.

"Are you all right?" Denise leaned a bit toward Carol. "You look a little green."

Carol smiled softly. "I'm fine."

"I found a couple cans of ginger ale while out on our run. I...brought them with us since Tara's already gone. You can have one."

"I'm fine," Carol insisted.

Daryl glanced at her. "You sure?"

"Why don't you both please focus on the person who actually has something wrong with them?" Carol crossed her arms and avoided eye contact, hoping the rest of this trip was a silent one. She had to concentrate to keep the uneasy flipping of her stomach from becoming more. She hoped it was just from the stress of their current circumstances.

"We should be there soon," Sasha announced to the group.

"Good." Daryl rose off the bench and walked down the hall to peek in on Maggie, seeing she was smiling as Glenn spoke softly to her, stroking her hair. He could hear Glenn talking to Maggie about his sisters and his mother, and Maggie looked at him with such love and joy despite the what was happening with her body and the baby. It made his lips twitched in a half-smile. They were a good match, and he was glad Glenn was there for her and their kid. They'd be great parents. He didn't interrupt them, so he quietly moved away.

Carol didn't want to test how much sheer willpower could keep what little food she'd eaten that morning down, so she excused herself to the bathroom. She leaned against the wall, closing her eyes and steadying her breathing. She wasn't sure which was bothering her more: the small space of the bathroom, or the possible "morning" sickness. She wanted it to pass and have this all be some flu bug, or bad food. She didn't want this to be a real. She couldn't be a mom again. She couldn't even be a good adoptive mom to Lizzie and Mika. How in the hell was she going to do this if this was real? If this baby was real?

She covered her mouth with her hand as the churning intensified in her gut, and bile rose up in her throat. She bent down and threw up. If she could do it quietly, she would have, but sadly she had no control over that. She didn't want them to hear and ask questions, but they were less than five feet away in an RV. She was sure these walls were thick, and the rumble of the engine would aid drown her heaving out, but if this was anything like pregnancy with Sophia, or perhaps the last time she had a stomach bug, it wouldn't be over quickly, no matter how little she'd consumed.

––

Michonne peered over the hall to see if Carol was coming back or not, but there was no sign of her. She didn't wear a watch, but she knew it'd been over five minutes. She could hear the ticking of the watch strapped to Rick's wrist. He had traded places with Denise to stretch his legs for a bit then he sat down. That was five minutes ago if her counting was correct, and she was certain it was. The ticking was getting on nerves, so she knew.

"She's been in there a while now," Michonne whispered to Rick, leaning toward him, her overlapped legs knocking against him at the movement.

"Has she?"

"I normally wouldn't worry, but...considering her condition." She wondered if she was experiencing morning sickness. She didn't want to press her ear to the door to find out, but if that what it was, they'd need to cover for her. Michonne hadn't told Carol she knew, but given how private Carol had become, she most likely didn't want anyone to know until she knew. If Daryl figured it out, he'd become a smothering papa bear, and Carol wouldn't be able to take two steps without him. If Glenn weren't here, he'd do the same to Maggie, only he'd hover mutely in the room with her. He cared deeply about their family, even more deeply for Carol, so Michonne understood Carol's reservations on telling anyone else, especially Daryl. She'd experienced his concern firsthand when she relentlessly tried to hunt down the Governor.

"We're almost to Hilltop," Rick replied. "I'll get Daryl to help me with Maggie, and you check in on her with Denise. Keep her relaxed and give her fluids if she needs them."

"I know how to handle a pregnant woman."

"Do you?"

"Yeah." She didn't elaborate. She'd tell him about Andre one day, but not today. Today was for Maggie and for Carol. Rick didn't need this story on his heart right now. "I'll be by her side while you all are with Maggie."

"What's with the whisperin'?" Daryl called from the table.

"Nothing you want to hear," Michonne teased, snuggling against Rick. "Unless you do?"

He snorted and returned to giving Denise tips on how to use the scoop on one of the rifles they'd brought. He'd asked if Tara or Rosita taught her how to shoot and load the clip, and she said Tara had insisted. That helped, put some of his nerves at ease, for the time being at least. He didn't want her out here without knowing how to protect herself. There were worst things than walkers.

Carol stumbled out of the bathroom, all but collapsing across from Rick and Michonne. She curled up slightly on the seat, her arms gently around her lower abdomen, and she rested her head on the wall, eyes closed. The rumbling of the engine was oddly soothing; however, the motion of the RV wasn't in any way comforting. She was reduced to dry heaving, because there was nothing else remaining in her stomach, so she wasn't worried about vomiting on the bench. She might have to hide it by coughing into the crook of her elbow, but otherwise she had no doubt that her stomach was empty. And she couldn't hide in the bathroom without a good excuse. She would have thought of one, but they would be at their destination soon, and if the urge was still there, she wouldn't have hide it. They'd all be busy with Maggie.

Michonne and Rick exchanged glances, Michonne moved to sit beside Carol, and Carol felt someone sit down, but she didn't open her eyes. Michonne didn't speak, simply ran her eyes over the pale woman beside and looked to see how near Hilltop they were. Arriving sooner rather than later would benefit both women.

– – –

"How are you feeling?" Glenn whispered, lacing his fingers through his wife's.

"Not well." Her voice was weak, and she kept her eyes closed. "It's... kinda hard to explain, but...not well covers it."

He kissed her knuckles. "I'm right here, okay? We ought to be there any minute now."

"Any minute?"

"Yeah."

Moments later the RV halted, Glenn distantly heard an indistinct conversation between Rick and someone else then the RV pulled forward a little. The engine cut off, Daryl and Rick came in and nodded to Glenn. They didn't want to pick Maggie up, as she looked as fragile as glass, so they lifted the mattress and carried her on it to Harlan. They then gently moved her onto the gurney, Rick and Daryl returned the mattress and waited outside for news.

"Are you all right?" Michonne questioned Carol.

"I'm worried about Maggie." She opened her eyes. "And the baby."

"Or your baby?" Carol frowned, and Michonne smiled gently. "Rick told me. Although even if he hadn't, I would have recognized the signs."

"I don't know if I am." She averted her eyes. "It could just be a bug. I did sleep outside for three nights."

"You wouldn't have come back if you thought it was just a bug," Michonne declared. "If that's all it took, you wouldn't have left in the first place."

"I don't want to talk about this, Michonne. I'm sorry, but please, I don't want to talk about it." She pushed herself up. "I need some air." She padded down the stairs and out of the RV, sucking in the humid air, and she heard Michonne exit behind her. "Michonne—"

"You have to talk about it, Carol." She carefully turned Carol to face her. "It could be a reality."

"Don't you think I know that?" Carol snapped. "What do you think I'm so afraid of? I'm not like Maggie, okay? I'm not young, and I know the risks. I didn't plan on this happening. Trust me, this is the last time I would ever want!"

"What if you are pregnant? What then?"

"I don't know, all right? I don't have a clue what the hell I'm gonna do if I'm pregnant, or how I'll tell the father, or how I'm going to raise this baby in the world we live in." She threw her arms out. "If the baby survives long enough for me to raise it, that is. Who knows what's going to happen to it. If I strain myself and lose the baby, or if the baby just...dies inside of me...or there's SIDS..."

Michonne lowered her eyes. "You've thought this through."

"Of course I have. That's why I came back to Alexandria. If the worst should come to pass, I don't want to suffer as...one of those things. Me, or the baby." Subconsciously her hand moved to her stomach.

"Baby?"

They turned to Denise who had come back to the RV for the medicine she brought along with them, Carol winced at yet another person finding out about her possible pregnancy, and Michonne was surprised she'd manage to sneak up on them as she had. She either had skill, or they were too distracted by their conversation.

"Rotters!" one of the Hilltop men on watch shouted, arming himself with a spear.

A small pack of walkers stumbled out of the treeline, heading straight for Hilltop. If they closed the gates, they could prevent them from entering the community due to the slow rate they moved at, and the distance between the treeline and the Hilltop. However they'd still be there when they headed back to Alexandria, and they'd have to deal with them then. They'd pound on the walls, possibly even weaken them if they worked on the same space. Carol had seen it at the prison, and she didn't want a repeat of that here. She didn't want anyone to get hurt, because of the walkers. She could imagine what would happen if one of the walls fell, and she didn't like the imagines flooding her mind. She'd seen it too many times. The scent of fire burning on wood and stone, the choking scent of decay surrounding them, the moans and hungry snarls of the walkers, the grabbing hands, the screams of terrors as they sank their teeth in and ripped flesh from bone.

She leaned forward and almost threw up again at the memories of those scents and sounds, Michonne gripped her arms to steady her, and Denise moved to her other side. Carol gazed at the dirty, raggedy pack of walkers advancing toward them, and she observed the men on watch tossing spears at them. They weren't going to stop the small group like that. They were only wasting their weapons.

She pulled her knife from her belt and slipped out of the gates as they drew them shut.

"Carol!" Michonne ran after her.

Denise was terrified at the thought of following Michonne and Carol out the gates, but what kind of person lets a pregnant woman fight a small group of walkers with the assistance of only one other person? She escaped before the gates were shut, hearing Rick and Daryl yelling on the other side. She had the gun Daryl had given her, a knife, but that was it. She spotted a spear that must have either fallen or was thrown by someone with extremely shitty aim. Or extremely impressive, considering it was almost directly against the wall. It would have taken work to have it fall and land in that position.

She cleared her head and collected the spear, thrusting the sharpened tip through the skull of the walker reaching for her. She yanked it out and stumbled from the force needed, and she repeated it on the next one and the next one and the next one. Her heart was racing in her chest. This wasn't how she expected to be spending her afternoon!

Michonne whipped her katana out, cutting through the heads of three walkers with ease, and she planned her lecture out as she was nearly swarmed by walkers. She used her aggravation at Carol to kill the walkers around her, and she hoped when this was over and they were all okay, she was going to rattle Carol as gingerly as she could rattle a potentially pregnant woman!

Carol could remember all the times their home had been overrun by walkers, how many times those homes were now graveyards, and she couldn't stomach it happening here. This wasn't her home. These people weren't her people, but she was so fucking tired of walking away while these things remained, roaming and destroying everything in their path. They were decay, and this place wouldn't be touched by it. Not while she was here with them. She refused.

Air shot by her head, she blinked as a walker that would have blindsided her crumbled to the ground, a bolt lodged in his eye socket. She caught the shirt of the walker in front of her and plunged her knife into his head, Daryl, Sasha, Jesus and Rick taking on the walkers they hadn't gotten to yet.

The seven of them made quick work of the small horde, Denise seemed fond of the spear she'd been using, and Michonne lost most of her aggravation toward Carol. Sasha cleaned her blade off, double checking the treeline for any movement as Daryl reclaimed his bolts. Carol stumbled back, panting, and Jesus send a nod to the men on guard to let them know the threat had been eliminated. Rick slipped his gun back in his holster, and he got in Carol's space, not bothering to keep his voice down.

"What the hell was that?!"

"Another day in our life."

"No, you know what I meant." He felt the eyes of the people around them, but it was too late to sweep it under the rug. "What the hell were you thinkin'?"

"It's over, Rick. I'm fine—we're fine." She swept a hand out to the group.

"You were impulsive," Michonne remarked. "You can't afford to be impulsive at a time like this! Do you have any idea how stupid this was? We could have handled it!"

"What are you, my parents? It's done. Arguing with me now won't change that."

"But it'll change how this works in the future," Rick remonstrated.

Carol scoffed, shaking her head and walking back toward Hilltop. She had to get away from them and their concern, but mostly she had to get away from that stench. It'd cling to her nose, and she wouldn't be able to smell anything else. She'd consider their points later, but for now, it didn't matter. It had been dealt with, they were fine, and she'd apologize. Once the results were, no matter what they said, she'd apologize. They were just looking out for her. That was, after all, what family did.

––

Daryl and Sasha both glanced from Michonne to Rick, but Sasha bit first. "What was that?"

They exchanged a look, Denise was heading back with Jesus, and Michonne would have abandoned Rick to handle this himself if she thought he could come up with a suitable lie. She moved between the two men, sheathing her blade, and she looked from Daryl's confused blue eyes to Sasha's curious brown ones.

"Carol might be sick. We don't know for sure, but if she is, she doesn't need to overexert herself." She maintained eye contact with Daryl, so he would buy her lies. He was the one they needed most to believe, after all. She would explain it to Sasha later, if Sasha came asking. "You saw how bad a simple flu escalated. We don't want that to happen again. If we keep her pumped with fluids and vitamins, she should kick this bug. If not, Harlan might have meds for her, which is why we brought her."

"Thought she volunteered." Daryl chewed on his bottom lip.

"She didn't want you to know," Rick commented. "You tend to...panic when things happen to Carol, so we kept it a secret."

"Don't tell her you know. She isn't exactly in the most pleasant of moods, but she did spend a good portion of the trip puking her guts up."

Sasha crossed her arms, a brow arched. "Why yell at her like that then? She's a grown woman, capable of making her own decisions, and I think she'd know if she could or couldn't handle some walkers."

"Besides we were here," Daryl added. "Had her back."

Rick sucked air in through his teeth. "I...may have overreacted, but I didn't want anything to happen to her, not like Patrick and the others." His gaze moved to Sasha. "You remember what that flu was like."

Sasha's brow lowered, though suspicion glistened behind those dark orbs.

"We got the equipment to take care of it," Daryl told him. "The meds too now. Helpin' the Hilltop out just now might have gotten Carol the meds to make her better."

"Maybe."

Michonne jerked her head back to the Hilltop. "Why don't we go check on Maggie and Glenn? Give Carol some space for a bit, let her cool down, and I'll bring her the meds."

"I can do it," Daryl offered.

"It's okay. I've got it."

Daryl narrowed his eyes at Rick and Michonne's retreating figures, an uneasy limp forming in this throat, and he spotted Carol and Denise by the RV. Denise had said she looked green, and she was in the bathroom for a long while. She could be sick. She was paler than ususal, but the way Rick went off on her wasn't normal, not even for a sick family member. There was something else going on here, but they clearly didn't want him involved. They weren't going to tell him anything, so he'd have to find out for himself. If Carol was sick or worse, he'd find out


	3. The Good From This Bad

Michonne walked by Rick to Hilltop, and she didn't dare look back at Daryl and Sasha. "Next time, let's better prepare our lie."

"Next time? What do you mean? Next time we hide Carol's pregnancy, or next time she goes off on her own to take on a pack of walkers?"

She chuckled. "The first one. I don't know if Daryl bought that."

"Sasha definitely didn't."

"If we just go along with it, Daryl might let it drop."

"Do you know Daryl?" He smirked at her.

"Like you could have done any better."

"All right, the next lie is on me."

Meanwhile in the RV, Denise handed Carol a bottle of water, Carol politely accepted it and drank a few sips to appease her, and Denise checked her blood pressure. She would have complained had she not basically dragged her and Michonne to kill a small horde of walkers simply because she darted out the gate and may be with child. She owed them an apology for risking their lives. They'd faced worse at Alexandria, but that didn't mean they had to go seeking danger to prove they could survive.

"Your heart's racing."

"It's not easy work," she set the bottle on the table and twisted the cap shut with the same hand, "killing walkers."

"Yeah, that was... Yeah." Denise laughed a little and was pleased with Carol's blood pressure.

"And I'm sorry for that, making you come after me and fight them."

"Don't apologize. I didn't have to follow, but I did. I wanted to. So...don't apologize." She smiled. "Uh, so...how far along are you?"

Carol opened her mouth to speak, but before she could get the words out, Daryl entered the RV. Carol shook her head at Denise, hoping she'd understand and not mention the P-word in front of him.

"Could you give us a minute?" Daryl asked Denise.

"Sure. I'll see how Maggie's doing, if Harlan needs help."

Carol wanted to flee with Denise, but Daryl wasn't going to let that happen. He wanted to talk to her, but she didn't want to talk to him. If she was around him for too long, it might all come spilling out. She didn't want to go back to the grove. She went there every night in her dreams, and she didn't want to relive it in her waking hours. She didn't want to remember how pale Mika looked, lying there in the grass, soaked in her own blood. She didn't want to remember how proud Lizzie looked, standing over her, almost smiling, happy that she'd finally figured out how to show them, how to make them see what she saw. She couldn't go back there. She couldn't, not even for Daryl.

"You all right?" He hovered beside her, hands on the strap to his crossbow. "Rick told me—"

"What?" She interrupted him. "Rick told you what?"

"Just to check on you." His lips shaped a line. "Is somethin' wrong?"

She lowered her eyes from his. "No."

"Well, now you're lyin' to me."

"Daryl, I don't want to talk about it. All I ask is that you just respect my decision, please. I need to be alone right now." She swiped the bottle of water and stormed out of the RV. She didn't know her way around Hilltop, but she needed space. Solitude, from the group and especially from Daryl. If she stayed in the RV, she might not be able to keep her front up, and she needed it. If she couldn't hide... She had to hide, and Daryl was the only person she couldn't hide from. Maybe one day he'd forgive her for this, but for her own protection, possibly even the protection of their friendship, she had to put distance between them.

She moved behind the building where they crafted their spears and seated herself in the shade, the bottle of water beside her. She squeezed her eyes shut to keep the tears away, pressing her fingers against her temple. She slowed her breathing, forcing back the ache dancing over her heart, and she opened her eyes when the threat of crying passed. She remained there for a moment, just to make sure she had control over her emotions, and she got to her feet. She couldn't sit here and think. Or try not to think.

Instead, she chose to go see how Maggie was doing.

– – –

"What's goin' on out there?" Maggie rolled her head to the side at the shouting. "Did...they say walkers?"

"Don't worry about it." Glenn smiled at her. "Rick and Daryl and Michonne will take care of it. Carol and Sasha too."

She nodded feebly.

He knew Harlan would be back in a few seconds, but he wasn't sure he could wait that long. He wanted to be optimistic, but he was shaken. He'd never seen Maggie look like this up until this moment. She was very pale and trembling, a layer of sweat coating her forehead. It broke his heart to see her in this condition, and he couldn't imagine what she was going through. He wanted to make it better any way he could, but he was helpless. He didn't have the skills to make her and the baby better. He could only stand by her side while she endured. It didn't feel like enough, like it was his best, but there was little else he could do.

He had tried to pray once back at the farm. He wasn't exactly sure how to pray to a god that let this happen to the world. So many good people had been killed, and he didn't understand how God could watch it happen. The rotten souls and dark hearts wouldn't be too hard to watch die. People like the Governor and Gareth got what they deserved. But the innocent ones? The kids? Sophia, Beth, Mika, Lizzie. The good ones? T-dog, Dale, Hershel, Lori, Andrea. The list went on and on when it shouldn't. They should be here with them today. Hershel should be here with them, helping Harlan with Maggie and his grandchild. Beth should be here to hold Maggie's other hand and reassure her sister.

He didn't know how to have hope in this situation. His hope for so long had been the baby. The world was cold and cruel, but little lights were born into it. Judith was born into it. She was growing and living and playing and laughing. She was this precious little ray of hope. She was the future. He and Maggie were going to have their own little ray of hope, of the future, but now this was happening. He didn't know what would happen, but he was scared. So many close calls, so damn many of them.

He inhaled, a quiver coursing through him, and he blinked rapidly several times to keep the tears, the doubt that crept into his heart, away. When they found Maggie and Carol in that place, when they got them home, he saw the cut in Maggie's shirt. Her skin wasn't grazed, but she'd come that close. If the knife had been even an inch closer or longer...who knows what would have happened. If Carol hadn't been there...

The door closed, Glenn spotted Harlan and quieted his thoughts, and Maggie braced herself for whatever was to come.

––

"Have you seen Carol?" Michonne located Denise outside Harlan's office, and she knew Rick and Daryl were by the RV, pacing and waiting for news, but she hadn't seen Carol since the walkers.

"No." Sasha adjusted the gun across her shoulders. "I haven't. Why?"

"I have medicine for her." It wasn't a total lie.

"Well, I haven't seen her, but if I do, I'll let her know you came by."

"Thanks."

"So, why are you really looking for Carol?" She leaned back on the chair she rested in. "And why did Rick blow a gasket at her killing walkers if she's just "sick"? It's not the flu like I had. I know what that felt like, looked like, and Carol seems fine. Fine enough that Rick shouldn't be as worried as he is." In addition, Carol was around the sickness, guiding people into A block, and she didn't catch it. So how did that illness come and go without touching her yet some other illness did months later? Either her immune system was a bitch, or it was a lie. She leaned more toward the latter.

"It's complicated."

"Try me."

"I can't. It's not for me to say, but if Carol wants to tell you then she will."

"Fair enough. I'll give Carol her space and her privacy." Everyone needed some of both now and then. "But if something is going on with her, let me know if I should look out for her."

"I will." Michonne had run out of places to look for Carol. She had been all throughout Hilltop, and they hadn't let anyone out of the gate since they killed those walkers. Carol wouldn't wander off by herself anyway, and if she tried, Daryl would be on her heels, because of their lie of her being sick. Besides Rick and Daryl were by the gate with the RV, so there wasn't a chance in hell of her escaping that way. There were no other ways out of Hilltop, so either Carol was in the RV, or Michonne walked by her and didn't notice her.

"You should check Harlan's office," Sasha suggested. "She might have checked on Maggie."

Well, she hadn't checked there yet. Perhaps she should have. It was the most obvious place, but she assumed that'd be the last place Carol would have gone. Carol was distancing herself. She couldn't leave because she might be pregnant, but she could keep away from them. With the baby possibly at risk, maybe she couldn't stay away. They were her family, so of course she'd be there.

– – –

Carol reached Harlan's office, extended her hand to knock on the door, but her hand stopped short at the noise coming from inside the office. Her heart shattered at the agonized cries that came from within, and she knew it was Maggie. She had only heard her like that when Daryl carried Beth's body out from Grady. She knew why it was happening now, and she felt her heart sink to her stomach.

Michonne stopped instantly in her search for Carol at the wails erupting from Harlan's building where Maggie and Glenn were. She knew the pain in those wails, and her chest contracted. She had made a similar sound when she returned from her run to find her home destroyed, her child dead, his father and her friend bitten and infected. She couldn't keep her mind from replaying it, and she threw out a hand toward the building to steady herself.

Rick and Daryl, although they were the furthest away at the gate, could discern the woeful cries from the young woman. Guessing what had happened was elementary. Nothing but anguish rang out in those cries, the cries of a young mother who wouldn't ever hold her child. Rick wanted to run and see if he was right, but his legs wouldn't carry him. So instead he slumped down and pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering a curse under his breath.

Daryl sank his teeth into his lip, not caring at the stinging pain of cutting through skin, and he ambled away from Rick and the RV. He knew how overjoyed Maggie and Glenn were. He had seen it when they were together in the RV after their first visit to Hilltop, how they looked at the sonogram like it was the most beautiful thing in the entire world, and now that was gone. The beauty, the joy, the precious new life they had tried to make together was gone. Gone like Hershel, gone like Beth, gone like so many others. It couldn't fight, couldn't be strong, couldn't defend itself, but it had passed on. Shit, he was right. Nothing good survived in this world. He didn't want to be right.

Sasha gulped with difficulty at the faint cries, shaking her head and closing her eyes. She knew this was an option. She knew it was on the table, but she had hoped it wasn't. She had hoped this kid would pull through like she'd seen Glenn pull through, like she'd seen Maggie pull through. They were such strong people, together and apart, and she hoped the baby had taken this quality in from both of them. She wanted it to hold on and grow and join them. She didn't want the see the darkness return to Maggie's eyes. She didn't want to see Glenn struggle to be there for her when he could hardly be there for himself. She didn't want this nightmare to be real, because she knew how hard it was picking herself back up, but this...? She couldn't begin to know where to start collecting the shattered pieces of yourself after losing your unborn child. Jesus, she didn't want to try and put herself in their shoes right now. God, poor Maggie and Glenn. And little baby Rhee who wouldn't see the faces of its loving parents.

Denise stood to the side of the room, watching Maggie coil up on the gurney and against Glenn, big tears splashing down her cheeks. Glenn couldn't console her, and he couldn't appear sooth himself. Denise didn't have any words, nor did Harlan. There were no words in this situation. Had things not gone to shit and the dead weren't walking, it might not have seemed as...demoralizing. Women miscarry, and they try again, and eventually it takes and they have their child, or they adopt or try through surrogacy. It worked out, and this loss, this hole, would one day be bearable.

Nevertheless those options didn't exit, and the world had gone to hell; the dead were up and walking around, plaguing the world and those who still lived. Maggie had lost so much, and now she had her own child to add to that list. Her body, the thing that kept her going, that allowed her to fight the men and monsters that took away her sister and father and other members of her family, and even her home, had been what failed her this time. Her own body had failed to nurture and sustain her child. And she had to live with that knowledge, with the fear that it could happen again, and maybe the baby would be big enough to...claw its way out of her next time. Perhaps next time would be the last time Glenn had a wife.

– – –

Maggie was unconscious on the bed in the RV due to a sedative Harlan had given her, and Glenn sat with her in the back, the door shut so no one could see them. Denise and Sasha were in the front of the RV, Sasha ready to man the wheel, and Denise was thoroughly cleaning her glasses. Daryl picked at one of his bolts, not acknowledging anybody around him, and Michonne was at the table, fingers laced together, lost in her thoughts.

Rick stepped up into the RV. "I'll be back in just a couple minutes."

Sasha nodded. "We'll be here."

Rick jumped out and strolled to Harlan's office where Carol was pacing, trying to get out of this appointment. He had to talk her into it again, because she didn't want to consider the possibility of her being pregnant after Maggie just lost her child. They came here for both women, and while Maggie's visit had ended in unspeakable tragedy, they had to be sure if Carol was or wasn't pregnant. They really had to know now.

"Where's Harlan?" Rick scanned the room that was vacant save for Carol and himself.

"He's gone to get a pregnancy test. I told him I don't think I'm far enough along for an ultrasound to pick up on anything." Hell, even the test might not.

"How far along do you think you are?"

"I dunno. A couple weeks?" Maybe it was just menopause. Maybe she was overworking herself, which caused her to be sick on the way over. It wouldn't be the first time. And she was near that age, so it could be menopause. She hoped.

"So, it's Tobin's?" Rick guessed, but she said nothing. "You were stayin' with him, so...it's his?"

She protectively wrapped her arms around herself, leaning against the wall. "...mmm."

"If you are, are you gonna tell him?" Rick studied her. "He deserves to know. He's... he's a good guy. I think he'd a good dad too."

Still she say nothing, simply nibbled on her bottom lip, panic and alarm in equal measure filling her eyes at the knowledge of knowing in a few moments she would have tangible confirmation as to whether or not she was pregnant. Either her worst fear in this regard would come to life, or she might feel relief for the first time in far too long.

"Kid's gonna be tall," Rick tried to jest. Tobin was a good six feet plus. Carol was so small compared to him. If the kid got his height, Carol was gonna spend the rest of her life looking up to talk to the kid. Rick hoped Carl didn't get any taller, or he'd have to do the same.

"Rick, please, just stop." She let up on chewing on her lip and hand held up in a stop gesture. "I appreciate the effort, but...please, stop. I feel sick with anxiety, and my sense of humor just isn't...here right now."

He complied with a nod.

Harlan rejoined them, sensing the tension in the room, and he handed Carol the box. He didn't have the equipment to analyze blood or urine, but he had a couple of these lying around here. He had them picked up a while back when a couple of their runners went out. Babies were being born here, and women needed to know. Sooner rather than later, so their shifts and duties could reassigned.

"The bathroom's right in there, and we'll be out here." He offered her his watch. "Here you go."

"Thank you." She accepted both and disappeared into the bathroom.

Once Carol was out of the room, an awkward air spilled into it, and Rick and Harlan exchanged glances. Neither knew what to say to the other. The first time Harlan saw Rick, his group was saving him and his, and the second time Rick was wearing the blood of on his group on his face. Since then he'd only seen Maggie and Glenn, so he didn't know how to address Rick. He seemed warm enough to his own people, but Hilltop and Alexandria were only neighbors, so to speak, and they weren't his people. However he did help them out with those walkers. Him and his, so perhaps.

"Are...you the father?" Harlan broke the silence, stuffing a hand in his pocket.

"What?"

He pointed to the bathroom. "The father? Or...a good friend?" Or brother? Ooh, he hoped not. It was already strain in here without him asking if his sister was pregnant with his kid.

"No, no, I'm not father." Rick set his hand on his pistol when he shifted his weight. "We're...we're family."

"Is the father not around anymore?"

"No, he's around."

Harlan could see he'd only get vague answers from the man, so he abandoned his questions and hopes for a conversation until the lady rejoined them. "I'll go get the prenatal pills, just in case." He busied himself with that task.

"All right then." Rick placed his hands on his hips and waited for Carol.

––

In the small bathroom that reeked of cleaner, Carol stood in front of the mirror. She set the watch down on the counter and opened the box, her hands shaking so violently you'd think she was shaking them intentionally. She paused to take a deep breath, though it did little to set her at ease. She hadn't taken a pregnancy tests in years. She felt foolish taking one now, but it was better to know. If she was or wasn't, it was better to know.

"Okay." She turned to the toilet with the test in hand, compelling her hand to quiet. One way or another, this was happening, so her body needed to calm the hell down. Once it was over, it was over. Well, there was the chance that once this was over, something else...was beginning.

– – –

Rick heard the door open and turned from the poster on the wall to Carol, who was staring down at the test in her hand, and he couldn't read her expression. He started to cross the floor over to her when she dropped the test entirely, and he hurried over when she nearly fell to her knees.

"Carol!" He caught her elbow, his other arm around her back, but thankfully she didn't go down. "Carol?"

"I—I'm fine." She curled her hand around his on her elbow, the other on her her stomach, as if she were going to be hurl. "I—I'm okay."

He didn't agree with her. "Let's get you into a seat." He glanced down and saw the results of the test. His eyes moved back to her, and he pulled her into his arms. "C'mere." He led her over to a chair and eased her into it. "I'll talk to Harlan, get you some water."

Carol wasn't certain if she responded to him, but to be honest, she didn't care. Her mind was torn between being consumed by the results and by the emotion swelling in her chest. She couldn't make heads or tails of the latter, but she was sure about the first. She was positive about it, and so were the results. In digital, black letters the results were positive.


	4. This Void

"So, this is what they'll need?" Rick looked over the items in the bag Harlan had given him.

"I've spoken to Denise on how much to give Maggie, so her body won't overwork itself, and in case she can't calm herself down. They should help her, but as for the emotional damage, it's up to you guys to help her. Denise likely would be great for that, given her major."

"And for Carol?"

"She mentioned she's been pregnant before, so just leave it to her. She'll know what to do with them, and I'd like you to bring her back in a few weeks. We might be able to a read on how far along she actually is once the fetus has grown more."

"This is it?"

"That's it." He smiled. "At least something good happen today." His smile faded some. "Poor Maggie. She's such a kind woman. I hope she'll be okay."

"You and me both."

"When she tries again, don't hesitate to bring her over."

With that, Rick departed the office with Carol who had collected the test for evidence of it being real, and they trudged back to the RV without a word shared between them. The trip back to Alexandria was similar. Were it not for the rumble of the engine, it would have been deathly silent in the RV. The tension was already suffocating, so they were thankful for the rumbling. Some of them anyway.

– – –

Carl and Enid greeted them upon their return, Michonne pulled them aside to let them know what had happened, Enid's big green eyes filled with tears and she ran off, and Carl asked to see Maggie. Michonne said they were going to give her space for now, and he understood. He saw Glenn carrying her out of the RV and towards home, and he asked Michonne if they could get her some flowers to brighten her room. It might cheer her up. Michonne smiled and said they'd go out tomorrow, as it was nightfall, and he gave Daryl a hand with returning the weapons.

Carol and Denise sauntered over to the infirmary together, Carol's prenatal pills hidden in Denise's medical bag, and Denise held a flashlight to guide them on their way. She had vials in the back, and she didn't want to trip and shatter any of them. They were vital, and she was clumsy, but she didn't want Carol to carry them, because she was pretty tuned out right now.

Carol zoned out of her thoughts when wood scraped across the ground, and she looked over at Denise. "They let you keep the spear?"

"Yeah, it was a thank you." She blushed slightly. "I helped a couple of Harlan's patients while he was with Maggie, and they saw how we helped with the walkers, so they let me keep this. They even carved my name into it."

Carol couldn't help but smile at how proud Denise looked at the spear. "You use it well."

"Thanks. I kind of can't wait to show it to Tara. She'll be so impressed."

Carol's mouth dried out at the mention of Tara, but it wasn't because of Tara herself. It was the mention of a significant other. She had one. One she had to inform that he was a father. Or he would be, if this pregnancy stuck. "Yeah, I bet she will be."

"Two weeks, give or take." She opened the door to her home and showed Carol in to the infirmary. "You should be back at Hilltop by then, right?"

"Uh, I don't think so. Rick said a few weeks, not a couple." Carol took the bag from Denise and unloaded it. "Why?"

"I was just making sure. I'm going with you again." She began to place the medicine vials and bottles were they belonged.

"Oh? What for?"

"Well, one day the women here will be getting pregnant and having kids. One day Enid may have children, and we might not be able to make the trip to Hilltop, so I want to broaden my knowledge of this area."

"I think you'll do great."

"Of course there's still tools I'll need, but maybe one day when Daryl's free, we can come up with a plan for that." She shrugged a shoulder. "I'll figure it out later. I need to learn it first."

Carol nodded. "That's everything."

"Going home?"

"It's late, and I have to get some sleep." She cupped the bottle in her hands.

"If you need me for anything, you know where to find me."

She gave a nod as thanks and darted from the home. She would speak to him tomorrow, but for now she had her bags to unpack and sleep to catch up on. She also had to eat dinner. She hadn't had food since this morning, and she couldn't very well go to bed without eating. Rick and Michonne wouldn't let that happen. They were going to be on her ass this entire pregnancy. She could feel it, and there was no beating Michonne off with a stick. She could Rick, but Michonne would fight back. So she might as well get used to it.

Carol tapped her palm over the cap of the bottle. God, she couldn't imagine how Maggie would react to this. She almost didn't want to tell her, but it was enviable. She would start to show, and there would be a baby. She couldn't just pretend that wasn't going to happen, not for Maggie's sake, or her own. It was a reality, and she needed to come to terms with that. That meant she had a lot of shit to work through in only nine months. How in the hell was she going to do this?

––

Glenn placed Maggie on their bed, carefully removing her boots and covering her up with a blanket. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and clicked the light off. He shut the door behind him and made it about halfway down the stairs before crumbling to the floor. He brought a balled fist to his mouth as tears rolled down his cheeks, and he would have punched the wall over and over and over if he thought for a second it could relieve him of this torment bubbling in his chest and filling his heart, staining his soul.

He buried his face in his palms and wept, his body vibrating from the strength of his sobs, and he didn't know if it would end. He knew pain. He knew every fine layer of it, but this raw, gaping gash in his chest was entirely new to him. And he wasn't confident he would survive this.

––

Maggie opened her eyes once Glenn had tugged the door shut, the moonlight drifting in through the open curtains, and she slid her hand underneath the blanket to her stomach, clutching the material of her shirt. A wave of anguish rolled through her, her lips parting as a sob slithered up her throat, but it was a muted cry. She couldn't close her mouth or draw in air as hot pain occupied her chest, even hotter tears cascading down her cheeks, and she felt a burning in her lungs at the air that wouldn't reach.

She felt like she was dying there, between those soft clean sheets and her sweat and snot stained clothes. She had never been this hollow until this moment. She thought she'd felt the worst of losing her blood in the past. Watching Glenn, Andrea, T-dog, Shane, and Daryl form a line and kill her stepbrother, watching Mom grab at Beth's pigtails, hungry for her flesh, Rick and Shane trying to yank her free while T kicked at her until Andrea grabbed the scythe and thrust through her forehead. Seeing Daddy lying there in the grass, bleeding and dying before the Governor finally beheaded him, ending his pain. Seeing Daryl carry Beth's little body out of that hospital, blood staining her beautiful blonde hair, her body so limp in Maggie's arms when she pulled Beth from Daryl. And there were the countless others they'd lost who were family to her too.

However nothing prepared her for this, and as she could finally, finally inhale, she wasn't sure if breathing was a blessing or a curse. It was something her baby never get to do, yet there she was, gasping in air, burying her face in the pillows, digging her nails into her stomach through the layers of her top. It wasn't fair. It wasn't just. This was a pure, innocent life, and it had been snatched away. The mixture of her and Glenn, the combination of genes and traits from their respective families that would live on through this child, had been snatched away. Here one minute then...

If God had a plan for her, she didn't know if she hoped this pain was worth it in the end, or she wanted to say fuck all of it—fuck His plan, fuck any belief she had left, fuck the way she was raise! Her suffering—Glenn suffering—was becoming all to familiar, and she was so tired of it. She wanted something good for the two of them, because the whole group had Alexandria and their own little happiness with other people or themselves. She wanted this baby so badly for her and Glenn, so she could look at this little life they'd made and know it was all worth it, know that God was with them, know that her line and Glenn's would continue on see a world neither of them would know. She wanted that so badly, but it was taken from her—from them—and she didn't know how to cope with that. She didn't know how Carol could do it, losing Sophia. God, how did she survive this?

––

Carol had folded the last blouse when a knock on her bedroom door got her attention. "Come in."

The door opened, and it was Rick—of course—carrying a bowl of something that smelled like heaven, and dear God if he didn't give it to her now, she might have to attack him for it. She swallowed the saliva that flooded her mouth at the smell, and she closed the drawer, stuffing the bag under the bed.

"Michonne made dinner. Well, her and Carl. Anyway, I brought you some."

"It smells great."

He set the bowl on the nightstand with a cup of water. "You settlin' in all right?"

"You don't have to worry about me, Rick. I can do that for myself." She walked around the bed to where he stood. "I'll be fine. I've done this before."

"I know, but I was just checkin' in."

"I'm settling in well. It's the same room I was in a couple weeks ago." She sat down. "Thank you for bringing me dinner. I appreciate it."

"If you need anythin', you know where to find me and Michonne." He lingered for a moment. "Good night, Carol."

"I'll talk to him in the morning," Carol informed him. "I'll let him know about the baby, but I want to keep this among the four of us, okay? With Maggie's situation, I don't think spreading this around is a good idea."

"I agree, and we'll keep your secret." His brows met at the number she'd said. "Wait, four of us?"

"You, Denise, Michonne and myself."

"Right. We'll keep it quiet." He interjected before she could thank him. "You don't need to thank me, Carol. You really don't. You're family, and...I'd do anythin' for you."

She could see he was sincere, and she offered a small smile. "Good night, Rick." She pulled her legs up and folded them, the door closing as he walked out, and she helped herself to the meal Michonne had thoughtfully prepared for them. She stirred it with the spoon. "Let's hope your father is as accepting and helpful as Rick, Michonne and Denise." She didn't see any reason why he wouldn't be, but this was a curve ball neither of them expected. Who could really say how he'd react? Frankly, she wasn't entirely sure what her own reaction was.

– – –

"We'll go and get Morgan," Rick said to Michonne and Rosita, now that he had convinced Daryl that they needed to bring him home. Rick had to twist the truth a lot, playing on Morgan's unwillingness to kill people and that was putting him at risk to guilt Daryl into coming along; however, the task of convincing Daryl was simpler than he thought it'd he. Daryl seemed eager to get out of Alexandria for a bit. Rick didn't blame him for wanting to separated himself from the heartache staining the streets. "We'll be back as soon as we can, but keep an eye on things here." He was talking directly to Michonne about two particular things.

"I've looked in on Maggie," Rosita told him. "She won't eat or speak, but she's drinking fluids. She cried a lot last night, so that's probably why. I'll try and get some broth in her later today."

"Have Denise try and talk to her tomorrow, if we're not back by then."

"Will do." She turned on her heel and marched off as Spencer walked over.

"We've got the car gassed up and ready." Spencer glanced at Rosita's quickly retreating figure. "Daryl's already there."

"See you when we get back." He walked toward the gate, stopping when Michonne called to him. "Yeah?"

"Are you sure it's a good idea to take Daryl? Won't Morgan tell him about why he was out there?"

"I can't take Glenn, and I need you to be here for Carol. Denise has her hands full with the infirmary and her studies and soon Maggie. She has too much to do, and there's no one else I can take who can find Morgan."

"Aaron could go with you."

"He ain't as good at trackin' as Daryl. Besides how I could explain switching him out?"

She sighed. "Just be careful and try to catch Morgan alone, if you can. Carol has enough on her plate without Daryl beating down her door to ask why she left in the first place."

"I'm curious about that myself, but it isn't my place to ask." If it were anybody's, he'd have to say it was Daryl's. They were close, and if she'd tell anybody, it was him. Likely why she moved in with Tobin, to make her escape easier. Poor guy. He was used and dumped, and now after that, he was a father. One hell of a week for him. "I'll see you when I get back." He kissed her gently then placed a kiss to the forehead of the toddler in her arms. "Be good for her, okay?"

Judith burbled, and Michonne laughed. "She makes no promises."

Rick chuckled. "Be safe."

"You too." She adjusted Judith and watched him depart, nuzzling the child to her. "C'mon, Judy, let's go see how Carl's doing in class then we'll see how your aunts are holding up." She patted her back lightly and strolled toward the school.

––

Carol ambled down the road, seeing people hard at work with their duties, and she spotted Aaron and Eric on their porch. She thought he might have sent a smile, but she couldn't be sure. She'd worry about it later, but for now she had to speak with Tobin. Aaron was right that she did need to speak with him, and the sooner the better. She didn't want him coming to their house and causing a scene, though Tobin wasn't the make-a-scene type of guy. He was a good one, like Rick had said, and he deserved to have a clean break up, so she would provide that. This was new territory for her. She'd never broken up with anybody before, so this ought to be awkward and painful, considering what she did to him.

She ascended the steps to his house and knocked on the door. When no answer came, she worried he might have left for his job already, but a moment later the lock came undone and there he stood. He drank her in, shell-shocked to see her there, and he opened the door wide to let her inside. She entered, and he closed the door behind her.

"I'm surprised you haven't left for your shift yet." She stood in the hallway in front of him, arms crossed.

"Glenn took over for Abraham. I let him, so he could keep busy. I heard about what happened over at Hilltop. I just wanted to give him something to take his mind off the...baby." He cleared his throat and aped her by crossing his arms. "So, you're back. Since when?"

"Since yesterday." She moistened her lips. "I'm not sorry I left like that. I had—and still have—things I needed to deal with on my own, and I couldn't afford for any of you to follow me. I can't explain it to you, but I came to say I am sorry I worried you."

"Why leave and then come back? You made it clear you didn't want us to come after you, and you just walked out on me. Why did you come back?"

"It's complicated."

"I think you can un-complicate it," he stated. "You owe me that, at least. I mean, you did ditch out in the middle of the night."

"For reasons you can't begin to understand," she pointedly added.

"Fine, you have a past you won't share with me. I get that. But would mind sharing why you left as you did only to show up a couple days later? Was it a prank? Because I don't think it was funny, and Rick wasn't too fond of it either. I can only imagine how Morgan took it. He's still out there looking for you, you know!"

"Rick and Daryl have gone to bring him back, and no, it wasn't a prank! I intended to stay gone, but I found something out that made me have to return."

"And that was?"

"I'm pregnant." She lowered her arms and pulled the test from her pocket, extending it to him. "The doctor at Hilltop gave me a test, and it confirmed my hunch. I am pregnant, and though I don't know how far along I am, I can assume a couple weeks."

He gaped at her then reached out for the wall and sat down on the steps slowly. He grew ashen, and he blinked. A lot. He dared himself to look at the test, and when he eventually did, he couldn't look away. "You—you're pregnant?"

"Yes." She inched forward until she was sitting beside him on the steps and laid the test down between them. "I was hoping I was wrong. I was hoping for menopause or—almost anything else, to be honest—but the facts are facts."

"H—how did you know?"

"When I was pregnant with my daughter..." she trailed off, unable to reopen those memories. "It felt the same, and I was late. The first two days out there, I was very queasy, and I had hoped it was a bug. Something I caught because I was sleeping out in the open, but that wasn't the case."

"How are you feeling now?" He peered at her.

"I'm fine." She rubbed her hands together. "Everything seems...still, at least for now."

He dragged a hand down his jaw. "Uh...aren't the first couple of weeks...risky?"

She nodded. "Who can say if it'll stick, but if it does... Well, I thought you should know."

"I—uh, I need some time to...think about this." He climbed to his feet, his legs barely holding him up. "I'm sorry, but I really need to...uh, I need some time."

"I don't blame you for needing time. This isn't exactly small news." She rose up off the steps. "I know you didn't want this or expect this, but it happened, and I don't expect anything from you, Tobin. I'm not even sure I would know what to expect from you, but you deserved to know. If nothing goes wrong and when you're ready to talk, you know where to find me."

"Yeah."

She showed herself out and the stillness that was once there had vanished. She slipped behind the house on her way back, in case she was sick. She didn't want to heave in a rosebush or draw any attention to herself, so the back way it was. Besides she liked the shade the houses provided, and if she were to walk in the street, she might be tempted to visit Maggie. She knew Maggie needed time and distance from sympathetic eyes, and she would give it to her. After all, she knew the pain of losing a child in this new world.

––

Rosita sat in the doorway to Maggie's bedroom, peering in her on from time to time. She knew there were a million other things she could be doing, but she might run into Sasha, and she didn't want to make conversation with her. It would be uncomfortable for both of them, like any conversation she might have with Spencer, and she'd rather avoid that for as long as possible. Plus Maggie needed someone to keep an eye her, make sure she drank and didn't push herself too hard.

Glenn had headed out to join the construction team. No one argued. He was the type of man to busy himself in heartache, and they had plenty to do. Rosita had seen him before the crew drove out, and he wasn't in the mood to be approached. It seeped out of him like the air he exhaled, and she was grateful Tobin had decided to stay in, a day off he likely needed, and let Glenn take his place. He needed this. They all could tell. Hopefully this helped him with the anger portion of loss. If not, they might have to get the guy a punching bag. She'd suggest Abe, but Glenn could take him, especially with all the rage and sorrow he held inside.

She set her head against the frame of the door, Maggie slept on, and Rosita worried for her. She was tempted to have Denise set up shop in here to keep an eye on her, keep her fed and alive. Maggie didn't appear to care about doing those things for herself, so they would have to. They would until Glenn was ready do it himself. He couldn't fight his way out of a wet paper bag right now, nor could he see the purpose behind this loss. She'd seen him look like this before when Maggie lost her sister and again with Tyreese. With Noah...Glenn was distraught, his core thrown off balance, and he floundered. But he had Maggie to ground him. He didn't have that now—neither of them had the other—and they were drowning alone. God only knew how long until they hit the bottom.

Rosita clambered to her feet at Denise coming up the steps, and she halted her. "No more drugs."

"Excuse me?"

"Don't give her any more sedatives. She needs to have a clear head, and it sucks, and it'll be hard, but she needs to get through this without sedatives."

"I haven't given her anything," Denise admitted. "I've checked her pulse and blood pressure, among other things, but I haven't given her anything."

Rosita glanced over her shoulder. "So, she's been in bed all day of her own choosing?"

"What did you expect?" Denise walked by her. "She has a lot to work through. I wouldn't get out of bed either."

"But she's asleep," Rosita protested. "I can hear her snoring. It's light, but it's there. She's been asleep all day? Without any help?"

"She might not have slept last night. She was crying pretty hard when I checked in on her last. She'll find her way back. You don't have to hover over her." She offered a kind smile. "Go home. Go on guard duty. Just get some air, all right? Being cooped up in here isn't good for you."

"Is that why you opened her window?"

"That, and it's a nice day." She crossed over to Maggie's bed and gently clasped her wrist, finding her pulse, and she bent down beside her, looking over her pale features. She appeared as if she aged ten years over night. Poor woman. Denise's heart went out to her, and she hoped this wound would heal quickly. She doubted it would, but she would be here as much as Maggie would allow to aid her through this.

Maggie's brow creased, a soft moan escaped through parted lips, and her eyes fluttered open. Denise's blurry figure came into focus a moment later, and she felt a dryness in the back of her throat. She saw the water on the nightstand beside her, their first and only sonogram behind it, and tears stung in her eyes at the memory of yesterday. She was stunned she had tears remaining in her. She thought she'd cried them all out last night, but apparently not.

"Shh." Denise tried to sooth her, but Maggie moved away. "Mag—"

"Get out." She hugged her legs to her chest, her voice unfamiliar and hoarse. "Both of you—get out."

Denise nodded. "There's water on the nightstand. If you need us, you know where we'll be."

Rosita's heart sank at the whisper of Maggie's sobs following them down the stairs, and she came off the last, marching on out the front door, because she couldn't stand to hear another second of her crying. She couldn't help her. Nobody could help her. And Maggie didn't need them lingering while she mourned, Denise was right about that. Maybe later she'd try and get her to eat. If not, there was plenty of broth.

– – –

Michonne sat across from Carol in her bedroom. "How are you feeling?"

"I dunno." She stitched the hole in the pair of jeans she found in the laundry room, trying to busy herself since she wasn't allow in the kitchen or on any shifts. "I'm a little tired, but that's because I didn't sleep well last night."

"Did you take your pill?"

"Rick watched me take it this morning." Her annoyance bleed into her words. "Apparently I have to be watched like a prisoner these days."

"We're just trying to—"

"I know." She stopped sewing and met Michonne's onyx eyes. "I know. I get it. I do, but I don't need a constant babysitter. I'm not going to leave in this condition. Do I have to give you my word?"

"It wouldn't mean much. You've spun tales for the people here, and you'd try to do the same to me."

"You wouldn't buy it."

"No, I wouldn't, and I am going to look in on you. You say you won't leave in this condition, does that mean you'll leave once you have the baby? Or if you lose it?"

Carol returned to her sewing. "I don't know what the future holds. If I do, if I figure it out, I'll let you know."

"Would you really leave your child? A newborn? We don't even have formula, powered or otherwise. You would do that?"

Her head snapped up. "If this goes that far, trust me, this child will do much better without me in their life."

Michonne noted the torment in those glacial spheres, and she would have asked why that was, but she knew. She knew about Sophia, and she knew how it felt to lose Andre. She carried that with her every day, and she knew where Carol was coming from; nevertheless, she could sense that there was more to the story than simply Sophia. She wouldn't press the issue, but there was much more to this story, to her pain, than she or Rick knew.

"I should check on Judith." Michonne slipped off the bed and out of the room, pausing once in the hall to ask, "Did you tell Tobin?"

"He needs time to think." She couldn't blame him. She needed time to think herself. She needed more time than she had. Nine months, if this stuck. She had nine months to get her shit together, because a new life was going to need her. She didn't like that. A life needing her. She had failed in every type of mothering role she'd taken on. She didn't know how she was going to do this, but she needed to work through what happened with the girls. She needed to be able to do whatever it would take for this child, so she had to work through it. She wasn't sure if she could do it, but it wasn't just her. She would give this child its best chance to survive this world. She would protect this child like she hadn't been able to protect Sophia or Mika. To do that, she had to give herself a clean slate, but it wouldn't as easy as that. It was going to take a while, it was going to take tears and time and patience with herself. She didn't know if she could that here, but she had no choice, because at the end of the day, there was nowhere else to go.


	5. Overheard

Rick spotted the barn and heard a horse nickering in the distance. He had Daryl search around the other way as he crept toward the horse. As he neared, he was almost met with a stick to the face. Luckily both he and Morgan had good reflexes, and Rick moved aside.

"Well, it's good to see you too." Rick smirked at his old friend.

"What are you doing here?"

"We came to get you. Carol came back." He saw the confusion in Morgan's eyes. "She had a...situation, one she couldn't handle alone, so she returned to Alexandria. Daryl and I came to bring you back."

"She came back? What was the situation?"

"I'll let her tell you, if she wants, but I need you to not mention her leaving. Daryl doesn't know, and it's really complex. If you want the truth, you'll have to hear it from her mouth."

Morgan nodded. "Found a horse."

"That you did." Rick approached the horse, remembering the one he found his first time out of his hometown after he woke up from the coma. Just like old times, he thought to himself. "Wanna ride it back? Safer than leavin' it out here by itself."

"Better than walkin'," Morgan agreed.

"You're pretty close to where we found the car. Were you circlin' back?" Rick grasped the reins and guided the horse out of the pin.

"Yeah. I lost her trail, thought I might find it again if I backtracked. Guess I know why I lost her." He stroked the horse's snout. "Is she all right?"

"Tired of me and Michonne gettin' on her, but yeah, she's all right."

"Rick?"

"That'd be Daryl." He handed the reins to Morgan. "Yeah, over here, Daryl! I found him."

Daryl rounded the corner and met the pair. "We bringin' him with us?" He glanced at the horse. "Hope Abe won't mind buildin' a stable on top of everythin' else." They'd already had him and the crew blueprint a pin for the animals they were getting from Hilltop.

"We are." Morgan patted the horse's shoulder. "I can lend him a hand."

Daryl nodded. "You ready to head back? It'll be dark soon."

"Yeah, I'm ready." He smiled at the horse. "Seems my job was done for me."

"What job?"

Rick shot Morgan an inconspicuous glare.

Morgan simply shook his head, mounting the horse. "It's nothing." The horse trotted him toward Alexandria.

"He had a job?"

"Hell if I know." Rick followed after the horse. "C'mon, and we might make it back before nightfall."

Daryl didn't like the way Rick said that, or the look he sent Morgan. It was barely there, but Daryl could have sworn he saw a panic in Rick's eyes. He didn't understand what the hell was going on, but Rick was in on it, and possibly even Morgan. If involved the job Morgan was sent out here to do, or that Morgan took upon himself to complete. If he found out what that job was, he might find out what the hell was going on with Rick and Carol. It all seemed connected, but he didn't have proof. Morgan wasn't the type to lie without a good reason. Maybe if Daryl prodded him, he'd get an answer. Morgan was a good guy. He might just straight up tell him, if he asked. Either way, he was gonna prod the fuck out of him and Rick and maybe even Carol to get answers, because they were hiding something from him.

– – –

Enid made herself at home in the living room the next morning, taking glances at the stairs, pulling her legs in tighter and continuing to scribble in her notebook. She had finished her shift and was just hanging out to keep an ear on Maggie. She didn't want to hover or crowd Maggie, but she wanted to be nearby. She knew heartache, and she knew Maggie had endured more than she ever have had to, and maybe Enid didn't fully understand it, but she could be here. Maggie might not want company, but on the off chance that she did, Enid was here. Besides if she wasn't here, Rosita would be, and Enid and Denise both agreed Rosita needed to get out of the house for a time. She had her own duties and life to live, and while her concern was sweet, it was going to drill her into the ground. Thus Enid being on Maggie duty it was.

Glenn entered the house, sweat staining the front of his shirt, a pair of worn gloves in his right hand, and he didn't acknowledge Enid with anymore than a possible head nod. He might have been lowering his head. She couldn't be sure, and she didn't want to call out to him. He looked beyond rough, and she didn't want to interfere with his healing process unless it was hurting him more than helping him. He inching toward hurting every second.

"Rick found a horse," Glenn spoke to her, his voice a croak, dry as his throat.

Enid lowered her legs. "Yeah?"

"Yeah, he's—he's all saddled up, pretty used to people, so he probably belonged to someone recently. Morgan and I are gonna make a stable for him and any other horses we come across."

"I thought Abe was in charge of construction."

"Yeah, he has a new project with Eugene. Uh, I haven't heard the full story, but if it works out, it'll be great for us—for the community." She nodded. "Why don't you go check on the horse? Carl's already over there. You can help brush him down."

"Carl, or the horse?" Enid mused.

Glenn didn't bite. "I have to get back to work, but you should go and have a look."

"After lunch," Enid promised, "I'll go and see him, but...I'm kinda pooped after my shift, and I'm in the middle of writing, so..."

"All right." He cleared his throat and his gaze momentarily flitted to the stairs, but all too soon he drifted out the door he'd only just walked through, and Enid was alone again.

She released a sigh and pressed her lips together. "Goodbye to you too." She rested her head on a cushion and began to write once more. At least it was progress. He hasn't spoken a word to her or anybody this morning, just threw himself head first into other people's work. Improvement. It was something.

––

Carol meandered through the garden, watering the plants that Maggie had been all but pleading to grow weeks ago, and she found a little comfort there in the greens and the browns, the rich scents of the earth pleasant. She had eluded her wardens this morning and asked Trudy for her shift. She wasn't allowed to do anything else, and gardening was supposedly therapeutic and good for you. It could only help her.

She shook her head, smiling sardonically. Help her. She wasn't sure anything could actually help her. She couldn't get space here, and she wouldn't for the next nine months. She couldn't turn without hitting Rick or Michonne. At least Denise didn't live with them. She was grateful for that. Although if Denise did stay with them, she wouldn't pester Carol half as much. She had her own job to do, and she didn't have time to get on Carol. Unlike Rick and Michonne who seemed to have worked it into their daily schedules.

She shouldn't complain. They were being kind. They were looking after her. She loved them very much, and she was glad they cared so much, but their persistent presence wasn't helping her. She longed for distance and time to sort through things. With their prodding and poking, she couldn't think about anything, let alone the real issues in her life. She had to find a place that was safe within Alexandria, a place they weren't likely to find her, and she needed to find it relatively soon. She couldn't handle being asked how she was one more time. She wasn't fine. She wasn't okay. She was falling apart, but putting on a good show so they wouldn't know just how broken she was. There wasn't enough glue or tape to hold her together, but she had to try when they were around. So the less they were around, the less she had to try. If she could make them understand this without having to elucidate the reason behind it, she would have done it the moment they were safe and out of Terminus.

But she couldn't. Maybe one day she'd have the words to clear it all up, but not today. Today she was simply watering the veggies and ensuring their growth. She had seen Rick and Hershel work on their crop many times, and Hershel didn't just give her tips on how to treat a wound. She could probably grow a small garden all on her own. She might have to one day, if this all worked out. Well, worked out wasn't the right way to word it.

She bent down to examine the growing tomato plant, and as she reached out, a voice called to her. She nearly laughed at her luck, and she gazed up at the moment he stopped beside her.

"Hey."

"Hey." She narrowed her eyes to shield them from the sunlight. "You're back?"

Daryl bobbed his head. "Found Morgan last night, came in this mornin'."

"He wasn't that far away?"

"Nah, said he was circlin' back. We got lucky, coulda been out there a while."

"I saw the horse. I guess you two brought him in."

"Yeah, Morgan found him in a pin."

"He looks good, healthy, like Flame did." She cast her gaze to the plants once more. "There were no problems?"

"Not with Morgan."

"Shouldn't that be a good thing?"

He shifted his weight beside the woman who felt a million miles away. "What's goin' on with you?" He gulped, unable to clear the lump in his throat. "Did somethin' happen...when I was out with Rosita and Denise?"

"No, Daryl, nothing happened." She stood up, brushing the dirt off her hands. "Nothing's going on with me." She couldn't look him in the eye.

"Again with the lies." His voice softened. "I'm here for you, Carol. You know that. Whatever's eatin' you, you can tell me."

She tempted herself and looked over at him, her mouth opening to spill the beans, but she saw Tobin in the distance. He had halted at the sight of her and Daryl talking, obviously not wanting to interrupt their conversation, and her mouth ran dry. She couldn't take her eyes off of him, but she couldn't handle talking to him. Being close to Daryl, being close to spilling it all—she needed to cap this, wrap it all up in a tight bow and pretend it didn't exist. At least until she found a way to get through it.

"I have to check on Judith."

She was gone before Daryl could get another word out, and he frowned. He had seen the answers to his questions in her eyes. He had seen her on the edge of telling him everything, but she stopped. She stopped and peeled out as quickly as she could. He didn't understand why, or what was going on with her. He normally had an inkling. He and Carol were close, good friends, and he could tell when something was off. He could nearly guess it sometimes, mostly the small stuff, but he had no clue what it was this time. He was in the dark, and she wanted him to remain there, despite wanting to let the cat out of the bag. It was right there, on the tip of her tongue...then poof! Gone. Like her. What the hell happened?

He scratched the back of his head and turned, finding Tobin a ways away, holding something thin and small in his hand, watching where Carol had retreated to. He narrowed his eyes at the man and approached him. If it had to do with Tobin, if he had hurt Carol in some way, Daryl would end him. No one would hurt Carol, not like Ed had. If it was physical or emotional abuse, Tobin would be swallowing his teeth for lunch. So help him God, if he put his hands on her...

Tobin backed up at Daryl's rapid shot over to him, and he nearly wanted to turn tail and bolt. But he figured if he did that, he'd only wind up with an actual bolt in his ass. Obviously Daryl knew and had heard. He and Carol were best friends, and he must not have liked the way Tobin handle the whole pregnancy situation. He wasn't too thrilled with his reaction either, but it was done. He intended to make amends, but that might not be sufficient.

"Before you go off," Tobin hurriedly remarked, "I am going to talk to her. I know it was a poor reaction, but she said she understood. We agreed on space."

Daryl glowered. "'Poor reaction'?"

"Okay, it was shit, all right? I didn't plan on this happening, certainly not in this...way. I mean, after what she did, and now she springs this on me?" He gripped the test tightly. "I just need to speak with her. That's all."

"She doesn't seem interested in talkin' to you right now, suggest you give her some room for a bit. Don't you got a job to do around here anyway?" Daryl's voice was rougher than normal, an acute edge to it, and Tobin didn't have to know Daryl to know there would be no negotiating.

"You're right. I'll...drop by later, after my shift." He remembered the pregnancy test in his hand and nearly gave it to Daryl to give it to Carol, but he would do it himself when he saw her. He didn't want to remain in the same area as the clearly pissed off Dixon.

– – –

"Still no appetite?" Denise searched Maggie's hollow green eyes. "Would you at least drink some broth?"

"Later." She inhaled. "I'm not thirsty right now. I just want to...to be left alone."

"I'll be back in an hour to bring you your lunch." She slipped off the bed. "If you drink all of it, I'll leave you be for the rest of the day. I'll have Glenn bring you dinner, or Enid. She seems eager to lend me a hand. She's really worried about you. We all are."

"I don't know what to tell you." She rested her chin on her knees. "I lost my child, and I can't be around all of you right now. I need...to figure out where I am now. That's hard to do with people comin' in and askin' me how I am, or do I need anythin'." Tears rose up in her milky green eyes. "I don't have an answer for 'em either. How the hell I am supposed to feel?"

Denise ducked her head. "Do you want me to answer that?"

"Yeah, I do." She looked at the blonde woman now. "I can't figure it out, so why don't you tell me what I should be feelin'? You're a head doctor, right? What the hell is going on with me?"

"I...don't know what—"

"Try." Maggie stared at her. "Try to put what you see into words, so you can relay it to them, and they'll stop askin' me."

Denise lifted her chin. "Empty. I say you are hollow, like a vase, and there's nothing you feel can fill that huge, hollow hole. Everything that tries...deflects, and all that remains is the weight of that hollowness. It's like...a black hole, sucking in everything—all your hopes and beliefs and thoughts of a second chance, of a family. It's tearing you to pieces, but all you feel...is nothing. Nothing can touch you, fill you, warm you, comfort you, because there's nothing there inside of you that feels it can reach out and reciprocate the gesture. It's like staring at a book, but all you see are white, clear pages, and all they...all we on the outside...see are the stars and the universe."

Maggie shuddered, tears splashing down onto her cheeks, and she snuffled. "Kind of a long response to how are you, but...it fits."

"I'll be back at lunch."

"Before you go," Maggie called to her, "could you tell me where Glenn is?" He hasn't been back to see her since he first carried her upstairs yesterday. He didn't come to bed. She had coiled up on one end, so there was plenty of room, which meant he was steering clear of her. Or he was burying himself wholeheartedly in some task like after what happened to them with Merle and the Governor. He immersed himself in maintenance, and he was doing it again now. Wasn't he? She didn't blame him. At least he could get out of bed. Although he may never have gotten into it in the first place.

"He's with Abe's team, working on extending the wall. He's taking over for Abe in a couple hours when Abe, Eugene, Carl and Rick leave for a run." She caught the details in passing.

"If you see him, tell him I'd like to him to come home."

"Of course."

"Thank you, Denise," Maggie called to the woman disappearing down the hall, and she was thankful Denise didn't turn around. She didn't want anyone to see the mess of tears she was about to become. For something so empty, the agony and the tears seemed to occupy every inch of her insides, crushing her lungs and stomping out her will to get out of bed. It kept piling on, like she was being pressed, massive rocks being slammed down on her chest, one after another. She feared she'd be crushed by the weight of it, but the truth was...she already had been compressed into a fine, gory puddle.

The wind blew in from the open window, ruffling her short locks, and she could smell honeysuckle, the tears burning even more. It reminded her of the farm, of Shawn tending to the animals, of Daddy and Mom laughing and loving each other and all three of them, of Patricia and Otis working the crops, of Beth running around on chunky toddlers legs, trying to keep up with all of them, flaxen pigtails flailing in the wind, her giggles just as infectious.

Maggie rocked herself back and forth on the mattress, arms locked around her body, and she wailed gently. She kept imagining the the little legs of baby Greene-Rhee darting here and there after they'd taught their baby to walk, but that wouldn't be anytime soon. Any month soon. Maybe not even any year soon.

– – –

Abraham loaded the last beam onto the truck and knocked on the side to let the others know it was safe to drive it to the site, wiping his brow. He spotted Tobin sitting on the side of a bulldozer, off in his own little world, and he joined him, knowing this wasn't the place to be doing that. They also had a lot of work to get done, and Abe and Eugene were taking Rick and Michonne to the bullet factory to be, so he needed Tobin to keep them in line, get the work done as he had in the past. He'd trust Glenn with it, if Glenn were in his right mind, but he wasn't. He was venting, and Abe would let him be. Sometimes you just have to beat the shit out of something to feel better. He understood that, respected it even.

"You know, there are other places for a man to get lost in thoughts without the risk of a walker snackin' on you," Abraham reported.

Tobin squinted up at the ginger. "I came here to work."

"Well, work's about ten minutes that-a-way." Abe pointed behind them.

He buried his face in his palm. "I have a lot on my mind right now."

"I'll bet. Woman runs off in the night, comes back a couple days later—that'd throw any man into confusion."

Tobin shook his head. "It's not her leaving and returning that's...shaken me." He pulled the test from his pocket and showed it to the man. "It's this."

Abraham sucked on his teeth. "Well, shit on a stick." He folded his arms over his chest. "You're gonna be a father?" Was something going around the air, or some shit? Man, he needed to watch himself.

"Yeah." He sagged against the bulldozer. "I don't know how I'm supposed to feel about this. She says I don't have to be involved, but...it's my kid. I mean, if this... if this baby makes it and is born...I'm a father. How can I not be involved?"

"That is a pickle." He didn't like to talk about children. He had been happy for Glenn and Maggie, though he didn't understand why you'd want to procreate in this world. He looked at Judith sometimes and saw his own kids, torn apart and dead. He never wanted that to happen again. Kids were off the table for the rest of his life, but for people like Maggie and Glenn, kids were the future, and he supported them, in their first try and in their next. It just wasn't for him. Might not be for Tobin either, by how the man looked. "How do you feel about this whole thing?"

"I just said—"

"Bullshit. You know how you feel about it," Abe interjected. "Tell me how you feel about possibly bein' a father in nine months."

"I dunno. The idea of it scares me shitless. I remember what happened when the wall fell...when we all had to take on those walkers..." He was right beside Carol, fighting shoulder to shoulder, and it didn't scare him. But this? A small, helpless, vulnerable child? Terrifying, even more so than the walkers that nearly devoured him were it not for Tara and Rosita. "Now add a kid to that? Anyone's kid being in that mess would be devastating, but for it to be my own flesh and blood...?" He abandoned Francine to die when walkers swarmed this area, but Abe took charge and saved her. Abe did that, while he cowered away. What kind of man was he?

"You wouldn't be paralyzed." Abraham met his eyes. "When it's your own kid or kids on the line? It's a whole new level, and you don't have time for fear or second guessing. You face your shit—be it walkers, be it weather, be it people who wanna kill you or worse. You grit your teeth and do whatever the hell needs to be done to get back to them, to keep 'em safe. You wake up in this whole...other state of mind." He chuckled. "Actually, you don't ever shut down...even when they're gone."

Tobin noted the flash in Abraham's eyes. "I wanted to talk to her, but Daryl wouldn't let me anywhere near her. He's probably just waiting to kick my ass."

Abe remembered the embrace Daryl gave Carol after she saved them from being food, and he remembered the stress on his face when she was taken by those Negan assholes. He nearly laughed in Tobin's face. Kick his ass? Tobin would be lucky to walk away from the man. "I'm not gonna say he's harmless, but if you're honest with him, and if you're good to Carol, you two ought to be square."

"You think?"

"He's a good man, honorable, protective. He wants the best for Carol, so you treat her right, stand by her, and he shouldn't...hand you your ass too bad." He smirked at the grimace that crossed the man's face. "It might go tits up, but...with Carol, you get Daryl. It's like a package deal, those two." He figured they were together from that sweet embrace, but apparently that wasn't the case. There was something there. He wasn't the type of man who easily picked up on that, but anyone who'd ever been around the two—save for maybe Tobin here—could pick up on that shit. Ooh, that could be why Daryl was being so hostile. If so, Tobin didn't stand a chance. He might want to be there for that.

Tobin nodded and slid off the bulldozer. "Thanks for the talk, Abraham."

"Just get your ass back to work so I can head out and meet Rick." He smirked again. "And talk to the damn woman. This won't get anywhere till you do."

"Yeah."

Abe chuckled to himself, Tobin hurried to catch up with the rest of the team, and Abe started back to his car to meet Rick and the others. An accidental pancake this time. Well, he hoped this one fared better than Maggie and Glenn's. He knew the pain they were going through, and he had no words for them, but even though it'd sting like a motherfucker, seeing another baby being born would be a good thing. It'd give them a boast. Second chances, second tries, were worth it. Hell, third and fourth chances and tries were worth it, if Sasha taught him anything. Just have to keep at it. Eventually, when the time was right, it'd happen. Till then they just have to grit their teeth and keep going strong. It was easier said than done, but most things that were worth it were worth the wait.

––

Michonne and Enid were preparing dinner trays for Maggie and Carol, Denise was currently caught up with a patient who had broken his thumb while working, so it was up to them to feed these women. Michonne didn't mind. She wanted to keep tabs on them, and she enjoyed cooking in the kitchen. It was like old times, only in some ways better. In others ways, it ached, but it was becoming a pleasant ache. An old friend she knew was always around but only visited now and then.

"I'll take this to Maggie." Enid tucked hair behind her ear. "Or I can take Carol's."

"Actually," a new voice said from the doorway, "I can carry it up to her."

Michonne looked at Tobin. "Is she expecting you?"

"No, but we need to talk."

"Sure." She slid the tray over the counter lightly toward him. "I have to take the wall in a couple minutes anyway."

Enid glanced from Michonne to Tobin, picking up on...something there. "Rick and the others ought to be back soon, right?"

"Should be." She collected the baby monitor from the counter. "I'm going to give this to Rosita, so she can keep an eye on the little one."

Enid picked up the tray for Maggie and glanced at Tobin. "It'll get cold, you know. Soup doesn't stay hot forever."

"Right." He grasped the handles. "Uh...where's her room?"

She laughed. "You don't know?"

"Well, she used to come to my house, so...no."

"Down the hall to the right." She pointed with her index finger. "Knock first."

"Will do." He lifted the tray from the counter and pounded up the stairs, finding his way to Carol's room. He had to knock with the tip of his boot, but she answered. "Hey."

She looked over him and the tray. "You brought me dinner?" Why did Michonne think she couldn't walk?

"Michonne made it, I think, but yeah."

She let him in and gestured to the nightstand. "I'll eat it in a bit. I'm a little busy right now."

"Actually, I came to talk to you." He did as instructed with the tray and faced her. "About the baby."

"You want to talk about this right now?"

"Yes. I've spoken to Abe, and I realized what I wanted from this."

"You told Abraham I was pregnant?" She stared.

"Is that a problem?"

She sank her teeth into her bottom lip and shook her head. Shit. If word got back to Daryl, he was going to chew her out. Not only did she not tell him first, but the entire community of Alexandria knew about her pregnancy before him. He was her closest friend, but she hadn't told him she was pregnant. She had avoided him altogether, been terse with him, so now...when he found out—if he found out—by someone else, he'd feel like none of it mattered. All they endured together, all of their conversations and jokes and teasing meant nothing to her. He'd feel like he was the furthest person from her, when that wasn't true. He was the only person in the entire world she would want to know she was pregnant—if things hadn't happened they way did at the grove.

However what occurred at the grove between Lizzie and Mika, between Lizzie and Carol, and almost between Lizzie and Judith, had happened. She couldn't ignore that. It changed her without and within. She had to do something she never thought she was capable of, and she didn't know how to live with herself. She was different now, no denying that, and she was petrified of having this child, of what could happen to this child whether she was there or not. Like she'd told Michonne, perhaps this baby would be better off with someone else. She had lost Sophia, because her little girl wasn't prepared for this world. She wasn't able to defend herself, and Carol couldn't protect her either. She had lost Mika to Lizzie, because Carol had put a knife in her hand and taught her how to use it. She had to killed Lizzie to keep her from harming Judith and Tyreese and herself while they slept. And now she was with child. She would be a mother again to a child conceived with a man she didn't love. A man she had, in fact, used to distance herself from Daryl and their family so she could do what needed to be done to flee these walls, these people and this town.

She knew without a shadow of a doubt Tobin wouldn't notice the changes like Daryl would have, like Rick or Maggie or Glenn might have. She picked him, because he was a caring man, a good man, and he was oblivious to the world, to what this new world did to people. He still had his innocence. He hadn't seen what she'd seen, didn't await the things she awaited, and she used that against him. And the product of her using him was this baby. That was the price of separating herself from the group. A child. One she didn't ask for, one she didn't want—at least not in this world, not with her in this twisted, dark mindset, not...with the shadow of Lizzie hovering over her.

"Carol?" Tobin hadn't been aware she didn't hear anything he'd just said, but at the sight of her eyes hazing over, he stopped talking. "Are you all right?"

Pure panic dug its way up her throat, the roomed tilted, her breathing grew shallow, and Tobin's figure blurred. She lost her hold on the world and fainted, and Tobin caught her before she hit the ground, holding her in his arms.

"Carol? Carol?" He gently shook her. "Oh, God. Michonne! Enid!" He scooped her up into his arms, stepping out of her room and hurrying down the hall where Michonne met him, katana strapped to her back, and Enid ran out from the kitchen. "She—she just fainted!"

"Did she hit her head, or anything?" Michonne reached for the dooknob to take her to Denise.

"No, we were just talking, and then she seemed out of focus and then she fainted." He was filled with trepidation. He had only just come around to the idea of being a dad. Had it been taken away already? "Is—is this what happened to Maggie? Is the baby all right?"

"Baby?!" Enid exclaimed, staring wide-eyed at Carol. "She's pregnant?!"

"I don't know what's going on." Michonne declared, "We'll get her to Denise, have her take a look, and if it's serious, we'll take her to Harlan. Let's just get her to Denise first."

The four sped to Denise's with Enid in the front. The young girl yanked the front door open and yelled for Denise, who was laughing with the man who'd broken his thumb. Immediately the laughter died, Tobin carried in Carol, and Denise shot over to them, pointing to the gurney they should put her down on. Michonne remained by her head, Tobin by her side, holding her hand, and Enid in the doorway, panting, still staring at Carol. Denise immediately got to work on the unconscious woman.

"Is she okay?" Tobin demanded. "Can you find out if the baby is or...or will be okay?"

"I don't know." Denise tucked loose hair behind her ear. "Give me a minute to look her over, all right? And just give me some room to work, please."

As they all moved back to where Enid was, their eyes were locked on the small body of Carol Peletier, unaware of Maggie who lingered in the shadows just a few feet behind.


	6. Bitter

"I don't have the proper equipment to check on the baby," Denise informed them, "but her vitals are fine. She doesn't appear to be in any pain. So, I think she worked herself up, shot up her blood pressure."

"She's okay then?" Michonne inquired.

"I believe so. I'll keep an eye on her, but she ought to be okay."

"Do you think the baby's okay too?" Enid moved forward toward Carol. "How are we gonna know if it's okay?"

"Well, if Carol wakes up and feels any pain that doesn't feel normal, we'll drive her to Hilltop. Beyond that, there's nothing more I can do."

Tobin released the breath he'd been holding. "Thank God." Sort of.

"You can stay with her," Denise told Tobin, "if you'd like. Till she wakes up. I have a few things to review, but I don't mind you staying."

"I appreciate it." He slid the nearby stool to Carol's bedside and grasped her hand in both of his.

Michonne trusted Denise and Tobin to watch over Carol for her, and she showed Enid out of the house. Maggie ducked under an armchair to hide from Enid and Michonne, gripping the back of it for support, and she sank down to her knees. She could hear Tobin and Denise talking. It was about the baby. His baby. Carol's baby. Their baby together.

She dug her nails into the leather, her insides quaking, and she raised her eyes, listening to Tobin talk to Denise about his reservations on being a father. She nearly laughed when he said it wasn't at all planned, that he didn't know he wanted this until it happened, and she didn't realize she was crying until a drop fell down her onto her hand. She couldn't sit there and listen to this. She had come to talk to Denise. Glenn hadn't come home, and she needed to talk to someone about all of this. Denise was the perfect person. She was compassionate and patient. She went to school for this, but now Maggie couldn't stay another second in this house with them.

Denise distantly heard the front door shut, knowing Michonne and Enid had departed a good five minutes ago, so she was curious who else had come with or after them. She'd dismissed Henry after she was sure Carol was stable and so it wasn't him. Who the hell was it?

––

"Have you guys talked about if you'll live together once the baby's here?" Denise tossed a blanket over Carol. "Or will the baby stay with her, and you'll just have it some days?"

"We were about to talk about it when she fainted," Tobin replied. "But I hadn't really thought about that. I mean, it'd make sense if we did live together. It'd be easier for us to tend to the baby, but our relationship... I don't know what it is, and I don't know if I can do it again. I want our kid to have a good home life, 'cause the world is shit, but I'd be worried I'd come home to an empty house. Again."

Denise nodded. "I get it, but you'll have to talk about it eventually. You know, if everything works out."

"I think it'd be best for the baby to stay with her. She knows more about babies than me, and Michonne'll be there. Rick too. I'll be around, and I won't miss anything." He smiled. "I think she'd prefer to keep the baby with her."

"I couldn't say," Denise confessed. "I don't know Carol very well. I guess you'll find out when she wakes up."

"Yeah."

Denise had a seat and returned to her studies. Well, she did for about a minute before the door flew open, and in poured Rick, Carl, Michonne and Abraham. She made the choice to study another night, because they were going to keep her up late. She'd start again tomorrow. She had plenty of time to learn, and they might need her beyond Carol passing out, but more likely than not they were here for Carol.

"She's okay?" Rick hovered by her bedside, eyes on Denise's face.

"So it seems." She scooted closer in her wheel-y chair. "She should wake up any moment now."

"You don't know about the baby?" Carl questioned.

"No." She shook her head. "Carol will have to tell us how she's feeling."

"How did you know about the baby?" Rick leered at his son.

"You guys are the worst at whispering," Carl joked. "That, and I heard you and Michonne talking about nurseries and cribs, and you kept saying Carol. It wasn't a challenge to work out."

"So else knows?"

"Enid knows now," Michonne answered.

"I know." Abraham waved his hand.

"Anyone else?" Rick pressed. "Carl, did you tell anybody?"

"Who's there to tell?" He put his hands on his hips. "Besides I know a secret when I hear one." He kind of dropped the ball with the last secret Carol and he had, so he made up for it. Or would until she told everybody.

"So, it's just seven of us who know? Not includin' Harlan." They have a collective nod, and he sighed. "Let's try and keep this contained. For Maggie's sake, as well as Carol's request for privacy."

A series of "my lips are sealed", "won't tell a soul", and the like were said, Rick nodded, satisfied with their silence, and Carol began to rouse at the noise they were making. Denise was on it in a flash, Rick reached for her hand before Tobin could, and a soft moan slipped out of her lips.

"Carol?"

She felt a warm hand in hers, instantly thinking of Beth at the gentle tone her name was called in, but she could feel the rough ridges of their palm. It didn't match Beth's at all, and the hand was too big. Her eyes fluttered open, and it was Rick. Rick was holding her hand, scrutinizing her with concerned blue eyes, and Denise was speaking to her. It wasn't Beth.

"What happened?" She sat up with the unneeded but given aid of Rick, his hand still holding hers. "Why...am I in the infirmary?"

"You passed out," Tobin imparted. "I brought you here."

"I passed out?" She blinked. "I fainted?"

"I think it was high blood pressure." Denise laced her fingers together. "How are you feeling? Do you feel well?"

"Yeah, I feel fine. A little crowded, but normal."

"That's good." She spoke to the group. "If you don't mind, I'd like to talk to her in private for a bit."

"Yeah, yeah, we'll go." Rick released her hand. "If you don't feel well, let us know."

Carol smiled weakly, watching them file out of the room, and Denise even asked Tobin to leave. Carol was grateful. They had an entirely new conversation to have, and she wanted to have it, but she felt a little disoriented. Once she had her bearings, she'd meet him at his, or on the way to his job to talk, whichever was more convenient for him. She'd drop by in the morning and get it sorted.

"I thought I'd tell you Carl, Enid and Abraham now know about the baby."

"Wonderful." She brushed hair from her forehead. "How long until the entire town knows?"

"I'd give it a good week or two." She smirked, and Carol faintly chuckled once. "You're sure you're all right?"

"I have to be." She slipped off the gurney. "I'm going to go home and sleep, if I can. I have a couple long talks to have tomorrow, so good night and thank you."

"It's what I'm here for."

– – –

It was a beautiful morning, the construction crew had hauled out bright and early, and Carol lowered herself down onto the porch swing. He would be back before the sun went down, and she didn't intend to wait here the entire time, but it had become a familiar place. It was nice, the gentle swaying of the swing, the breeze that occasionally blew by, the scent of flowers that accompanied it—and Daryl didn't come out this far. He and Rick may be out on their run again with Abe and Eugene, but who could say? She'd avoided the group on her way out. She eaten the rest of the food she'd made for her trip to a new place for breakfast, but she suspected Michonne would hunt her down to verify she'd actually eaten as she hadn't joined them. Might as well wait here.

Morgan was by the solar panels, back his old schedule, and she watched him for a moment then over him to the group tending to the crops. She might lend them a hand. It was nice to get her hands dirty with soil instead of blood, and they were shorthanded with Maggie recovering. They would never have too many hands tending to the garden, and if there were, there were other things she could occupy her time with. Well, if Rick had any said, it'd be the garden, watching Judith or teaching a class for the little ones. God, he was never going to get off her back. Here she thought Daryl's over-protectiveness would be the death of her. She never thought it'd be Rick's.

"Hey."

She moved her gaze from the garden to Morgan, who stood on the steps to Tobin's house. "What are you doing here?"

"I know you ran away," he instead replied.

"I know. Rick told me you and he came after me. You said you'd find me on your own, made him return." She didn't offer him a seat beside her. "You didn't have to do that. I didn't want you to."

"I'd still have gone after you."

"Why? Why do you care?"

A gentle smile. "Why did you come back?" He noticed she wasn't smoking or holding the rosary.

"It's really none of your business what I do, Morgan."

He tilted his head to the side. "Do you want to talk?"

"No, and even if I did, it wouldn't be with you." She stood up. "Excuse me."

"If you ever decide you'd want to talk to me, I'll listen." He stepped aside. "Whatever it is, whatever you're running from, you can come back from it. I promise you that. People can come back from anythin'."

She scoffed and hurried away from him. She shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself, continuing down the sidewalk back toward the house. Maybe watching Judith wasn't such a bad idea. If it keep Morgan from trying to talk to her, she'd babysit her any day, any time.

Whatever it is, whatever you're running from, you can come back from it. She inhaled roughly and swallowed. He didn't know anything.

––

Maggie slammed the window shut as rain poured down on Alexandria, and she rubbed the beads of water off her arms and pushed the hair from her face. She had been out walking when the sky opened up and gushed down on her. It was another sign that it just wasn't a good time to be her.

She stripped herself naked, about to toss her clothes into the hamper, and her eyes fell on the clothes she'd worn to Hilltop. She yanked them out and dumped the others in. She slipped on Glenn's nightshirt and padded down the stairs to the living room, tossing the clothes into the fireplace, and she lit a match, tossing it in. She watched the cloth slowly catch fire, and she stood back as it devoured her top. The warmth reached out to her, and she lowered herself down onto her knees in front of the fire, tossing in two logs, and she slid the screen over it.

Beth loved fires. She couldn't get enough of them. Whether they were in the house, or a bonfire, she adored them. The heat, the sight, but not the smell. She would complain, but only a little. She could sucker Shawn and Daddy into cooking out, so she could make a bonfire and roast marshmallows and sing campfire songs. She was such a kid.

She would have traded anything to hear Beth sing right now. The last time she heard Beth sing was to Judith, the poor baby just wanted to play with cups, but Beth kept singing. She eventually let her play with them, but not before the song over. It was something of Tom Wait's, but Maggie could barely recall the lyrics, let alone what the song was.

She bowed her head and saw how the extra cloth folded at her stomach. She placed her hand there, feeling the flat surface underneath, and she screwed her eyes shut. It wasn't supposed to be like this. She wasn't supposed to lose the baby. She wasn't supposed to be afraid of what would happen with her and Glenn's relationship now. She wasn't supposed to relive that moment every time she closed her eyes and die each time.

And now Carol was pregnant. She was pregnant with Tobin's child. Tobin who she didn't know for very long, or have a strong connection with. Tobin, who she suddenly moved in with. Tobin, who couldn't possibly know the kind of woman she was. He didn't know anything about her. And Carol didn't know anything about him. She put on quite the act, but Maggie could tell. There something off about the two of them being together. All that time in the prison with guys like Axel who propositioned her, and she always said no, but suddenly Tobin was the one? No, no, there was something more there. But it didn't matter. No, it didn't matter, because somehow despite the fact that Carol didn't love him, and he couldn't love her yet, somehow they were going to be parents. Tobin would be a dad, and Carol would be a mom. Again. Carol was going to be a mom again, yet Maggie couldn't even be a mom once.

She ground her teeth and shoved off the ground onto her feet. How was it fair that a woman who didn't even want a child was pregnant while she'd only just lost hers? There was still a long road ahead, and Carol might lose her baby too, but...Carol had already given birth to one child, so why would there be a problem with the second?

She headed upstairs to change into actual clothes, flames taking up residency in her belly as she yanked her boots on, zipping them. She trudged out into the storm and across the street to the house filled with lights. She pushed wet hair out of her face and thought about this for about one second before the woman of the hour came into her line of sight. She was in an over-sized white blouse, and for a moment Maggie could imagine a small bump underneath, and she felt like she'd be sick once more.

"Maggie?" Carol hurried over to her. "You're soaking wet. Here, let's get you some dry clothes."

"Don't touch me!" Maggie jerked away when Carol reached out, stabbing a finger at the woman. "Don't."

"What's wrong?"

"What's wrong? What's—what's wrong? Oh, let me check the list!" she spat. "I think the first would be losin' my baby, and the second is findin' out you're pregnant now!"

"Who told you?"

"Nobody told me!" Balled fists clenched at her sides. "I was gonna talk to Denise about my miscarriage, and...everyone's just terrified for you, 'cause you passed out! "How's the baby?", "Is the baby okay?", "Is she okay?"...ha." It was a bitter and resentful sound.

"Mag—"

"You don't even want a kid, do you?" she interjected.

"No, I don't," Carol honestly answered.

She laughed, a dry, humorless sound. "Well...must be the trick of it. When you don't want it, it comes. Like Lori...and now like you."

"Maggie, please, let's just get you out of those clothes. You'll freeze to death."

"Good. Good! I'd rather freeze to death than watch you and your baby..." She couldn't breathe at the fires of rage and envy that consumed her, and she stepped toward Carol, an almost threatening aura to the young woman directed at the older woman. "I'd rather."

"You and Glenn can try again. I'm sure it'll...happen when it's time."

"When it's time? When is it time? When we have a safe place?" She threw her arms out to gesture to the entire community of Alexandria. "When we have a reliable food source? When we have the people and numbers to not worry? To sleep well at night? To not cringe every single time Judith cries? Because we have all of that! So why don't you tell me when it's time, Carol? It's workin' out for you, so why don't you tell me when?!"

"Mag—" Carol tried to touch her again, but Maggie smacked her hand back against the wall.

"I said don't touch me."

"What's going on in here?" Michonne heard their conversation from upstairs while she changed Judith's diaper. She wasn't worried until Maggie began to scream, and now joining them with this animosity in the air coupled with how close Maggie was to Carol told Michonne she'd made the right choice in coming to check on things.

"Why you?" Maggie ignored Michonne. "What makes you so special? You just keep...comin' back from it all, don't you? And now...now you're havin' a child."

"Special?" Carol snorted. "You think I'm special?"

"Well, ain't you? You survived Ed, the farm, Isolation, the flu, being cast out by Rick. I can keep goin', but I think you see my point. All of that, and now a child you don't even want."

"Maggie, I think you should go home, get yourself cleaned up and eat something." Michonne passed Judith to Carol and lodged herself in between the two women. "I'll go with you."

"Tell me when you found out," Maggie demanded, leering over Michonne's shoulder at Carol.

"You don't want to do this, Maggie," Michonne warned.

"Tell me when you found out!" Maggie shouted.

"After you miscarried," Carol whispered. "Rick insisted—"

"Oh, God." She covered her mouth with her hand and backed out of the house, turning on her heel and dashing away.

"Maggie." Michonne sighed. "I'll be back. Watch Judy for me." She ducked out into the rain, following Maggie to her home, but when she arrived, she was met with a locked door. She knocked, but Maggie didn't open or answer her calls. She knew Maggie needed time. Time to accept Carol's pregnancy, time to mourn her miscarriage, time to move on from the anger. They would simply have to give it to her. Only Maggie could help herself now.

– – –

Carol rocked Judith on her hip, telling her a story to try and hush her wails. She wasn't a fan of the thunder. Carol brought her closer and kissed her forehead gently, continuing with the story. She paced the living room as she spoke, raising and lowing the pitch of her voice for the characters, and Judith began to calm.

However the story did little to mitigate the nerves tightening in Carol's stomach at Maggie screaming at her, announcing her pregnancy to the world, revealing the magnitude of her own torment. Carol knew all too well the anguish of losing a child, but this was the first time for Maggie. She could take the anger and the heat of Maggie's suffering, if it aided in her recovery, or allowed her to feel some sort of release, even for a second. What Carol wouldn't give for release...no matter how brief.

Judith spread her fingers over Carol's chin, pulling her from her thoughts, and Carol couldn't help the smile. She kissed her little fingers, and Judy looked at her with such unconditional love and trust. It nearly broke Carol's destroyed heart, so she focused on the story.

Daryl looked in on Carol and Judith, hidden in the shadows of the hall, holding the strap to his crossbow, and he smiled to himself at the sight. He didn't dare enter the room and chase her off; but he lingered, watching the smile she gave the girl to cheer her up, and he listened to the story. He didn't know what was wrong, or if he'd done something, but he'd figure it out. He had a lot on his plate right now, but there was always time for her. He'd make the time. He just had to get Rick alone, grill it out of him. Michonne was a vault, but Rick? Maybe he could load a few into him, it'd loosen his tongue right up and get answers. They had booze lying around. He'd just have to pick his moment.

"How is she?" Carl crossed over to Carol and Judy.

"Calmer." Carol rubbed her back. "She isn't going to nap while it's storming, so I'll let her help me with dinner."

"Okay." He chuckled at Judith's face, wondering if she understood them. "I think she's upset about missing that nap."

"I would be too."

He smiled widely. "Do you need a hand?"

"Did your dad or Michonne ask you to ask me?"

"What? No, no." He was telling the truth. "I just don't have anything else to do. Dad and Abe are planning how to work that factory, and Spencer and Gabriel are on patrol. Sasha's on the wall. Besides it's a big family to feed."

"All right." She adjusted Judith. "Let's get started. People will be coming home soon."

"Tobin's joining us," Carl reported. "He said he needed to talk to you about the whole...situation, and I invited him for dinner. I hope you don't mind."

"It's fine." She wrapped an arm around his shoulder. "So, how good are you with casserole?"

Daryl's nose scrunched at the mention of Tobin, here, eating dinner with them like he belonged. He knew he should give the guy a fair shake, but he couldn't. He didn't like the man. It wasn't anything he'd done. Daryl just wasn't fond of him. He didn't understand why in hell Carol was with him, but he tried to be happy she was happy. The only problem was...Carol wasn't happy, not here, not with Tobin, and not even now with Judith. She was struggling, and he could see it. He'd lived his own version of it. She was drowning, and he wanted nothing more than to bring her to shore, but he didn't know how. Perhaps, once Rick coughed up what was wrong, he'd focus his full attention on how to help her through whatever it was.

– – –

At dinner, the storm was still going strong. Rick smiled and gazed at Michonne affectionately as she shushed Judith softly, his attention on her more than his meal, and Carl tossed out comments, teasing the couple. Rosita, who joined them for dinner now, chuckled somehow bittersweet and helped herself to more wine, and Carol rubbed her shoulder, playing more with her food than eating, thankful the Grimes were busy with their own plates. Having thought that, Tobin would now and then nudge her leg, reprimanding her and prompting her to eat without saying a word. She weakly smiled in return and shoveled another bite down.

Across the table, stabbing into his meat a little too forcibly, was Daryl. His bangs covered his eyes that glared daggers at Tobin, and he knew Carol had noticed. She was just about the only one who could discern his expressions through his hair, but she said nothing. Her eyes didn't remain on him longer than necessary. He would have been bothered by it were he not bothered more by Tobin's presence at their table.

"Daryl?" Rick repeated for the fourth time, getting his focus now. "Michonne and Rosita are takin' Eugene to the factory tomorrow, and we're gonna try and find material for him to work with."

"Us?"

"Yeah." An amused smirk. "Abraham has to help Morgan with the stable, and Glenn's mannin' construction for now."

"I wouldn't say that," Tobin muttered.

"What's he doing then?" Carl polished off the peas from his meal.

"Working himself to the bone. He was there before us this morning, and I don't think he even went home. I—I've tried talking to him, but he doesn't hear me."

"Is he still there?" Michonne held Judith closer in her lap.

"When we left," he nodded.

"In this weather?" She cast a look to Rick. "Maybe we should go check on him."

Rick began to rise out of his seat. "Yeah, you wanna come and show me where, Tobin?"

"Sure."

They two men departed the house, Rick kissing his kids and Michonne and Tobin squeezing Carol's shoulder on their way out, and Carol collected their empty plates. Rosita thanked them for the lovely dinner and rolled out before clean up, and Daryl shoveled in the last few bites of his meal and carried his and Rosita's plates to the kitchen.

"Since when are Dad and Tobin the life of the party?" Carl whispered to Michonne.

"Your dad can be entertaining," Michonne wiped food off Judith's chin. "I can't say the same for Tobin."

Carl snickered.

"I don't know the guy, is all I meant."

"Better get to know him. He'll be around a lot." He set his fork down. "It's still odd, you know? Like with my mom."

Michonne tenderly brushed hair from his eyes. "Carol will be fine. It's not the same as her." She stroked his cheek. "Okay?"

He nodded, though that day had been growing more and more familiar and present in his mind at the news of Carol's pregnancy.

––

Carol rinsed the bits of food off the plates, sighing at the thought of returning to the dining room, and she turned the water off. She'd wash them later with the rest. For now, she just wanted to finish her meal and pretend everything was all right.

"Brought you two more."

She tensed. "Two more? Who else left?"

"Rosita, and I'm done." He was beside her, placing the plate in the sink. "Need a hand?"

"No, I'll do them once we're all done. It'll be quicker." She dried her hands off. "You're done? Without any second helpings?"

"Not a fan of tuna," he lied.

"Right. So it wasn't my cooking?"

"Nah, if anything...could make me eat tuna, it'd be your cookin'."

A beat.

"I should get back in there and finish eating, so I can tackle these dishes before it gets to be too late." She dropped the washcloth on the counter. "Good night, Daryl."

"Night."

– – –

Rick and Tobin searched the site for Glenn, the storm worsening now, and Rick called to him over the howling winds and surging thunder. Tobin had grabbed the spare flashlight from his truck, but it was useless in this storm. Still he used it as a guide to where he last saw Glenn, and Rick walked ahead, calling to his comrade.

"Glenn!" Rick held a hand over his eyes to keep the leaves the wind blew at him out of his face. "Glenn?"

There was a shadow on the ground in the distance, Rick snatched the light from Tobin and directed its beam to the shadow, revealing the shadow as Glenn. He and Tobin darted over to the unconscious man, blood on his brow, and Rick shook him hard. Glenn didn't wake.

"We gotta get him to Denise." Tobin gripped an arm, Rick the other, and they hauled the young man up between them. Together they carried Glenn to the truck, Rick looked for bites as Tobin drove, but luckily there were none. It might be some debris fell loose, knocked him on the head, and he went down, but only Glenn knew. Rick would have to wait until he woke up.

Rich pinched the bridge of his nose, thinking of how in the hell he was going to tell Maggie about this. It was the middle of the night, during a storm from hell, and only a couple days after she lost the baby. Her husband was found unconscious at the construction site with blood on his brow. For fuck's sake, couldn't the world cut these two some slack?


	7. Thoughtful Gift

After emptying her stomach and dry heaving for about twenty minutes, Maggie coiled up in the shower. She shivered under the warm water and pushed her hair back from her face, remembering the last time she'd showered in here. She was pregnant, happy, scrubbing the dirt from Glenn's body and polishing his hair with shampoo. What she wouldn't give to go back to that day.

She thought about her screaming at Carol again, a flash of slapping her hand away played in her mind, but she didn't linger. If she did, she might regret it, and right now, she didn't have room for that in her heart. If the intensity of this agony ever lessened, if she could pick herself back up again, perhaps she could think about it. Maybe even speak to Carol. She was too tired right now. She was so tired, but she knew wouldn't sleep. Her mind wouldn't shut off. It kept replaying that hellish day, and Tobin's questions, over and over on a loop. One baby gone, another one forming...

––

Denise heard pounding on the front door, and she slipped out off the couch, answering it. It was Tobin and Rick, wet to the bone, with Glenn slumped between them. She showed them in, Tobin and Rick carefully placed Glenn on the bed, and Denise asked what happened.

"We don't know. We found him like this." Rick combed a hand through his hair to keep his bangs from falling in his face. "Tobin said he'd been workin' all day and for all we know all night without stop."

"If that's true, and he didn't stop to eat, he could have been on a ladder and gotten light-headed. He fell, hitting his head with a tool he may have been working with." She shrugged a shoulder. "His pulse is strong."

"And he doesn't have any bites," Rick pointed out to her. "I double checked."

"Apart from this injury, I don't see anything else wrong with him." His pupils were responsive to light, his pulse was strong, and he was breathing normally. "This wound isn't all that deep."

"That's good." Tobin wiped water from his brow.

Rick cleared his throat. "I'll go get him some dry clothes."

"Have you told Maggie?" Denise looked up from cleaning the cut.

"No, we only found him about five minutes ago on the site."

"Well, it's pretty late, and she might be sleeping. If she is, let her slept. If not, bring her over with you."

A nod as response, Rick headed over to Maggie and Glenn's. He was closer to the back entrance, so he used it. He didn't call out to her and tried to not make any noise, padding up the stairs and to the master bedroom. It was as silent as the grave, and he saw Maggie curled up in bed. He pondered whether to wake her or not, but something told him not to. He took clothes that were Glenn's, finding a bag to cover them in the kitchen, and he was once again in the clinic a moment later.

Denise and Tobin had moved Glenn to the bed Carl had been lying in after he was shot, his shirt and pants had been removed, and he appeared to be sleeping, the cut uncover so it could breathe. He disposed of the bag and placed the clothes at the end of the bed. He gripped the metal frame and sighed. Glenn needed a better coping system, and Rick couldn't offer him any. He damn near lost his mind to the point of no return when he lost Lori, and had Carl not been with him when he thought he'd lost Judith...

He didn't blame Glenn. He only hoped the young man woke up with his head on straight again.

– – –

"What do you mean, he wasn't conscious?" Maggie pulled a shirt down over her tank top, listening to Rick tell her about what happened to Glenn. "Is he okay? Is he all right?"

"He woke up about a half hour ago."

Maggie stopped moving and swallowed. "He's up?"

"Yeah. Denise is with him now. They're talkin', gettin' food into him."

She expelled a relieved sigh. "Could I see him? I mean, is Denise talkin' to him about the accident, or...other things?"

"I'd give 'em a minute. Why don't you have some breakfast? There's oatmeal that was made for Glenn, and there's a lot left, so you should have some."

She gave a nod, but likely wouldn't be eating any of it.

"Add some apples, a bit of cinnamon," Rick suggested. "Ain't too bad."

"Michonne makes you apple cinnamon oatmeal?" Maggie's smile was weak, but thoroughly amused.

He chuckled. "No, no. Today it was Carol. She was up at the crack of dawn like always, made us breakfast, and I think she's out with the garden group right now. How that woman gets so early with so much energy, I don't know."

Her smile shriveled up. "Carol?"

"Yeah."

"Mornin' sickness?" Maggie inquired. "Is that what had her up?"

He paled. "Y—you know?"

She nodded. "I found out yesterday, when she fainted on Tobin."

"We were tryin' to keep it hush. After what you and Glenn found out," Rick hastily explained.

"It's okay, Rick."

"You don't have to lie. It's gotta hurt."

"It does, but my pain doesn't change facts. Carol's pregnant, and I'm not anymore. It's not as simple as that, I know, but...again, doesn't change how it is." She folded her arms across her chest. "Thanks for tellin' me about Glenn. I'll have breakfast then go to him."

"If you need anythin'," Rick offered.

"I know." Maggie waited until Rick was out of sight before falling back onto the bed and burying her face in her palms. She wanted to go see Glenn. She wanted to see him and ask Denise on his health, but she wasn't sure she could. The last time she and Glenn were together, it was after they'd gotten the news from Harlan. It was, what? Day three of them being apart? She didn't know how to feel about seeing him again, lying there on the bed, like she'd been lying there in Harlan's office. It'd be too familiar to the worst day of her life. Of their lives, really. She didn't know how to even talk to Glenn, let alone take his hand and chastise him for being so stupid. She didn't know how to be there for Glenn, not after she'd...failed him and herself so massively only three days ago.

Tears burned in the back of her eyes, and she snuffled. She didn't know how to do this. Basic comfort. After what they went through, after what they'd lost, what her body had made them lose... how could she be in the same room as him? What did he think of her? Did he blame her? Hate her despite loving her too?

Those mere questions caused a tremble to spread through her body and vacation in her hands. She wept deeply. How was she going to talk to him? How were they ever going to be the same as they were? She failed him...her body...and now... It was her fault he was out there, working himself to death. If her body had been better, or stronger, the baby would have survived. He'd be here with her now, not on a bed in the clinic with a cut on his forehead. He'd be happy and sane and asking what names she liked to use for their child.

But he wasn't okay. He wasn't happy. He wasn't entirely sane. She wasn't, so there was no way he was. He was out there, day and night, extending the walls with and without help, through sunshine and the storm from hell they'd endured last night. He was out there to be away from her, and she didn't blame him. If she could separate herself from this body, she would have the moment Harlan's eyes fell and all oxygen was sucked out of the room and out of her lungs...

She couldn't see him. Not like this, not right now. She couldn't. He probably didn't want to see her, so it was for the best that she keep away. She muffled her sobs with her hands, curling up on the mattress, the ring heavy on her finger.

– – –

"Is this the part where you tell me why you pulled me from my job?" Carol tugged the gloves she'd been given off her fingers.

"We still have a lot to talk about." Tobin handed her bottle of water.

"Well, where do you want to begin?" She avoided eye contact, sipping the water from the bottle he'd given her.

"Say this sticks, who does the baby stay with?" he asked. "Or...do you want to live together? I have the room, and I don't mind. There's two spare bedrooms, or we could move the baby in with you."

A lump formed in her throat, and she drank more. "What did you have in mind?" She twisted the cap shut, half the water gone now, but still her throat was bone dry. "Which would be better for you?"

"I want to be involved, as much as possible, but if you'd be comfortable at your home then that's fine."

"Uh...I... I think... Tobin, why don't we hold off on this talk until after my next visit to Hilltop? He might be able to tell me how far along I am, and if the baby is...safe."

"Your next visit?"

"Yes, because like we talked about there's still a chance I could lose the baby, so let's just wait. I don't want to make plans for something that may not work out."

"That makes sense." He scrubbed his hand down his chin and twisted toward her. "Do you want me to go with you?"

"What?" She faced him.

"For your appointment, do you want me to go with you?"

"No! No!" She briefly closed her eyes and tried to clarify her hasty response. "What I mean is not this time. I'll have Rick and Denise with me. Maybe for the next one, if it all checks out."

He nodded. "I'd like to come to the next one."

"Okay." She offered a weak smile. "I should get back. So should you."

"Do you want me to walk you?"

"It's about ten feet back that way." She smirked. "I think I can make there on my own."

He chuckled. "Okay." He paused. "Oh, here. I...I don't know if you want to this or not." He held out the pregnancy test. "I thought it'd be best to give it you to deal with."

"I'll throw it out." She accepted it and buried it in her pocket. "I'll see you later." She turned on her heel and walked toward the garden, hearing him jogging the opposite way. She cut a right to the house, dropping the bottle on the counter in the kitchen, and she barely made it to the trashcan.

"Carol?"

Her heart nearly stopped at the sound of his voice. Were she not upchucking her breakfast, she might have been able to speak to him. At least she could think of what to say while she barfed. She didn't know what Rick told him, or why Rick asked him to check in on her in the RV, but she hoped he told her so she could work off that lie. She didn't want him getting anymore suspicious.

"Hey, easy." He set an arm around her back once she'd finish puking, and he guided her over to a chair, handing her a glass of water. He'd have gone for the bottle had it not been mostly empty.

"Thanks."

"Still aren't feelin' good?" He set his hand on her forehead, and it was warm to the touch. "Have you been to see Denise?"

"I don't need to. Daryl, it's nothing."

"You're pukin' your guts up, and it's nothin'?" He shook his head at her. "Don't lie to me, all right?"

"I'm not, and I can handle it."

"You shouldn't have to. I can get Denise."

"No, don't. She's with Glenn, and I'm better now. That was all I had in me."

"Does she have the right meds? I can go out and try to more. We didn't strip that last place completely bare, might have missed somethin' you need."

"Don't trouble yourself, Daryl. I don't need any medicine. I just need to lie down for a bit. It's the heat and lack of water I've had. I've been helping out in the garden, and all these layers were stupid to wear." He snorted a laugh at that. "It'll pass."

"You sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Thank you for the water." She pushed herself up and shuffled toward the stairs, a soft thud escaping her attention.

"Wait, Carol, you dropped this."

She froze, her heart came to a screeching stop remembering Tobin had given her the pregnancy test and something just fell out of her pocket. She braced herself and spun around to face him, nearly crying with relief at the sight of the gardening gloves Trudy had given her. "Thanks."

"You oughta lie down now. You're pale. Well, paler."

"Yeah." She gripped the gloves and backed out of the room.

Daryl narrowed his eyes at her. Yeah, that wasn't normal. He'd never seen Carol throw up until now. He'd seen her sick, fighting the most decayed walkers, but nothing. She had a strong gut, and not even a cold or flu made her throw up. If it was a bug, it was a strong one. Meaning she did need medicine, and she wasn't taking any. She didn't want to bother Denise, but he was going to. She wasn't going to suffer in silence, and if he had to dig through her room for signs of her illness, he just might. If it kept her alive, kept her on her feet, he'd do it.

For now, he'd have a word with Denise. She was good with healthy shit, might be able to make a tea or soup for Carol to strengthen her immune system.

––

"She hasn't spoken to you?" Glenn ate another big bite of oatmeal.

"No." Denise smoothed ointment over his cut, pulling her hand away when he winced. "Sorry."

"It's fine."

"You can talk to me, if you want." She spread a little more over the cut and wiped her finger on a tissue. "It might help."

"Help? How could talking help?" He set the bowl on the nightstand beside him. "Our baby's still gone. I don't...know how I even feel about it."

"What do you mean?"

"When I got her home, I put her to bed, and...the pain was...unbearable. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't move. I couldn't...think about anything else. But now...I don't feel anything." He ran a hand through his hair, minding the cut. "I can't be with her, feeling like this. I mean, how could I help her when I don't have a clue what's going on with me?"

"You don't have to always help her alone," Denise reminded him. "You have people who care about you, who'd love to help you. I'd like to help you both."

"I can't look at her, Denise." His eyes sliced into hers. "I can't, because...she was crying so hard at Hilltop. She was looking to me for support, and I couldn't offer her any. It's been days, and I still can't."

"You're being too hard on yourself. There is no easy way to heal, or to cope a loss like this. Give yourself time to understand it. You and Maggie have to heal both together and separately. It's different for you both. You both lost your child, but Maggie was carrying the baby."

"And I couldn't do anything to protect them."

"You did everything you could."

"I didn't keep her here while we took care of Hilltop's problems," he hissed. "I didn't make her stay behind. I brought my pregnant wife to...to fight assholes who bashed in someone's brains as a conversation starter. That's what I did. I didn't fight with her for her to stay here. I just let her come." He gripped his jaw, his teeth grinding together. That was the first strike, he was sure of it. The stress of the kidnapping, the energy and force it took to kill those people and the walkers, the close call...

"I should have done more, but I didn't. It's my fault. God."

"No, no, you can't think like that!" Denise held eye contact. "It wasn't your fault or Maggie's. It was a terrible accident, Glenn. It...happens, and it's not fair or right. It doesn't make sense, but it wasn't yours or Maggie's fault. I promise."

Tears shined in his muddy eyes. "But I didn't protect my child," his voice broke. "I couldn't."

"You did everything you could, Glenn." He slouched forward and bawled, and she rubbed his back. "It's better to let it out. You'll be okay."

He wasn't sure so. He cared about Maggie much more than he cared himself. Now Maggie wasn't all right, wasn't anywhere close to being all right, so he wasn't. Until she was okay again, he wouldn't be either.

– – –

Maggie barely made it to the toilet before she tossed her cookies. She hadn't had anymore more than broths, so hot liquid wormed up her throat and into the toilet. She coughed and gagged when there was nothing left, and she flushed it down.

Her back kissed the cool side of the tub, she wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. She sighed and wondered why she was throwing up so much. Her late night walk in the rain might have made her sick, or her own disgusting envy. God, the way she treated Carol after what Carol did for her when those assholes kidnapped them, after knowing Carol was struggling with killing, after Carol fucking offered her dry, clean clothes so she wouldn't catch a cold.

She hung her head and groaned. She didn't want to be this woman. She didn't want to be envious to the point of dark thoughts. She didn't want feel this all-consuming hate for Carol simply because she was pregnant. That was all. There was no logic behind her hate whatsoever, and she didn't want to hate her. She didn't want to feel this way toward Carol. It wasn't her fault she was pregnant at the same time Maggie lost her child. It wasn't like Carol had killed her baby. Hell, without Carol, her and Glenn's baby wouldn't have even existed. She and Glenn wouldn't be alive here to try again. They would have food for the Termites. Or she would have been gutted along with the baby when those assholes took them.

She shuddered, bringing her legs in. No, she couldn't go on like this. She couldn't be like this. She wasn't raised this way, nor did she want to grow this way of her own choosing. A new command I give to you: love one another as I have loved you. She told her daddy that on the farm. Love one another. She did love Carol. She loved her a lot. She wasn't angry with Carol, not really. It was herself and her traitorous body she hated. It wasn't Carol.

Love one another. She moistened her dry, cracked lips, swallowing. It wasn't going to be easy. It was going to be torment and hell and maybe she couldn't go through with it, but Carol was family. If she could lock the hurt away, put on a brave face, she could be there for her throughout her pregnancy. Be what Carol was to her during her short pregnancy. She wasn't there yet, but she couldn't be begrudging and irate forever. For Carol's sake and the sake of the new baby that would be joining their family, she couldn't be. Hatred was a curved blade, and she didn't want the new member of their family to feel that. She'd rather die than have that little baby pick up on her self-loathing. That wasn't something a baby should pick up on.

She wiped her eye with the palm of her hand. It'd been about three, four days since she lost the baby, and three or four days since Carol found out she was pregnant. She couldn't be around her right now, but she couldn't leave things like this. She'd been so hostile with her, and she'd seen the readiness to pounce in Michonne's eyes at her ire. She needed to apologize somehow. Words weren't enough, not for what she said, not for the thoughts in her head. No, she needed something to give to Carol to let her know they were still family and she was so sorry.

– – –

Carol opened the door when someone knocked and didn't enter when she called to them, and she found Maggie on the other side with her hands behind her back. She hadn't anticipated this turn of events. She stepped aside, Maggie entered, making sure whatever was behind her back remain hidden, and Carol closed the door.

"I'd ask how you're feeling, but I can imagine you're sick of that question." Carol motioned for Maggie to sit, if she wanted.

"Good call." Maggie met her eyes. "I'm sorry for the awful things I said to you."

"You're in pain. We all say and do stupid things when we're suffering."

"That doesn't excuse what I said," Maggie persisted. "I shouldn't have said those things. You've lost a child too, and it was worse than me. You had Sophia for years, held her and loved her and taught her, and I didn't even know what my baby looked like."

"That doesn't matter. You lost your child, your baby, and I lost mine. It's the same."

"I brought you somethin', as a peace offerin'." She held out a calendar. "I know we don't have a clue what month it is, but this is a way for you to keep track of things. I uh, marked out the last couple days, so you can count the days until you see Harlan next. Once he tells you how far along you are, you can work out a due date. Maybe. I dunno. I just...I thought... if it goes well, you'd want to. Or, you know, you can use at least keep track of the weeks for till your next visit."

Carol looked at the 2010 car calendar. "Thank you, Maggie. That's...really sweet."

"And this." She produced the small, knitted bunny Glenn had found for her a while back. "It was for our baby, but I thought you'd like it."

"I couldn't."

"No, please. I wanna give the newest member of our family a gift." She smiled with tears in her eyes. "C'mon, let spoil the baby just a little."

She noticed the young woman was quaking, and her voice was high. She was on the edge of crashing, and Carol knew the feeling all too well. She knew how difficult it was to be here, to say what'd been said, to offer her these things. She'd been there. Once she saw Sophia stumble out of the barn, she was there, and then finding out Lori was pregnant. Lori's whose little boy had survived being shot. Lori whose husband came back from a coma. Had she not had faith back then, she would be where Maggie was right now.

Carol gulped. "Well, okay, but don't tell anyone."

"My lips are sealed." She covered her mouth with her hand.

"Oh." Carol pulled Maggie into a warm embrace. "I'm so sorry, Maggie."

"Me too." She buried her face in her shoulder, her hands digging into her back.

"Take it from someone who's been there," Carol murmured by her ear, "it does get better."

With that, the damn gates flooded open for what felt like the millionth time, and Maggie couldn't keep the tears away. Carol hushed her and stroked her hair, and Maggie felt...like it was okay. She didn't know if it'd last, but right now, she felt connected to someone else. She wasn't isolated in a house, crying into wrinkled sheets in a pitch-black room. She had people. She had Carol, who not only understood but had been there. Hearing her say those words...truly lifted some of the darkness of her shoulders. There was plenty left, but if Carol could get through it, so could she. Maybe they could even get through this together.

Maggie wrapped her arms around Carol's shoulders now, face still buried in her shoulder, and she gripped the rough cardigan Carol wore. Her stomach flipped when she felt Carol's stomach against hers, and she dig her nails in more at knowing there was a baby in there, but not in her anymore. God, she didn't know if she could be around her and watch this baby grow. She wasn't sure if she was strong enough for that, but she knew without a second thought she wasn't strong enough to hate Carol and not grow to despise herself more. Her faith in God was shot, but the faith she had in her family was unwavering. This baby was family, and she'd fight with her last breath to keep it alive. She was going to ensure this baby arrived healthy and strong, like Judith, only Carol would hold her baby and love her baby. Carol would be alive too, healthy and strong. She'd make sure of it.


	8. Crumble

Carol and Maggie stepped out for a walk in the crisp evening air to soothe Maggie, and Carol noted how Maggie kept a distance between them. She wasn't upset by it. She knew it would take time for Maggie to come around to this, and everyone mourned in their own way. It was a long, grueling processes that couldn't be forsaken. Once this moment was over, Carol didn't know how much time would pass before she saw Maggie again in the way they were before Carol was pregnant and before Maggie lost her baby, but it'd be okay as long as Maggie utilized that time to begin to forgive herself and to heal.

Inside Daryl knocked on Carol's bedroom door to see if she was still resting, but there was no reply. He opened the door and poked his head inside, discovering the room occupied no one. He pursed his lips and entered, finding a knitted blue bunny on the bed alongside a calendar. He chuckled at the sight, not knowing why in hell those items were there, but the bunny was soft to touch. He knew women liked soft, cute things, so he chalked the bunny up to that.

Now the calendar was a bit stupid. It was from before, and it served no real purpose. He thought maybe she'd use the pictures for something, but they were cars. He noted a couple Xs and wondered what they meant beyond crossing the passing days off. Why would Carol need to count the days? Was she going to take off again? Or was this for Maggie and Glenn? The doc said they had to wait a while before trying again, so maybe she swiped it for them. He couldn't be sure though. It was something Beth would do. Kid kept a Days Without Incident chart in her room. Carol was the kind of person to do something like this for Maggie and Glenn as well.

Shaking his head and feeling like he was trespassing, he set the cup of tea on her nightstand. Denise said it should help with the nausea. It smelled of ginger, but she wouldn't say what it was exactly. He didn't bother tasting it. He trusted her.

He turned to leave, kicking the nightstand and sending the lamp crashing to the floor. He cursed and tried to catch it, but no such luck. He heaved a sigh and collected the shattered pieces, unplugging it from the wall, and he carried it downstairs, dumping it in the trashcan. He nabbed a lamp from the living room and set it up. He'd explain what with her hold lamp to her when she got back.

He swept up the small bits of leftover clay and dusted it off into the trashcan in her bathroom. He inspected the tea for any bits that might have ended up inside of it, but he got lucky. It was still the same light shade of brown. He knew it wouldn't stay that way, what with the bugs and all. He scanned the room for a slip of paper or a book to cover it with. He didn't want to loiter in her room, it was her private space, but he didn't want this tea to go to waste. Not with her feeling so sick. He wanted to nip her illness in the bud, and he didn't want to waste the tea. Stuff like this in the world they lived in was like gold. He wouldn't it go untouched.

With how much time she spent reading to the kids in the prison, you'd think she'd have one or two books lying around here, he grumbled to himself. He checked under the bed, in case it'd fallen with the lamp, but no. It was all clear saved for a bag. He set his hand on the bed to stand up, and the mattress slid. "Shit."

His eyes then fell on what had unaligned the mattress from the box spring to begin with. That was when he saw something weird. He would have ignored it, as it was Carol's, but what the item was and what it said made no sense. Well, the fact that it was in Carol's room, hidden, with that on it made no sense. If he'd found..something else, some...toy, it'd be embarrassing, but it would make sense. She was a woman, and she had needs same as everyone else, but this? What the hell was it doing here? In her room? In between her mattress and box spring? It didn't make any sense. Or did it?

"You're takin' Carol?"

"She volunteered."

"Are you all right?" Denise leaned a bit toward Carol. "You look a little green."

"What the hell was that?!"

"Another day in our life."

"No, you know what I meant. What the hell were you thinkin'?"

"It's over, Rick. I'm fine—we're fine." She swept a hand out to the group.

"You were impulsive," Michonne remarked. "You can't afford to be impulsive at a time like this! Do you have any idea how stupid this was? We could have handled it!"

"What are you, my parents? It's done. Arguing with me now won't change that."

"But it'll change how this works in the future," Rick remonstrated.

"She isn't exactly in the most pleasant of moods, but she did spend a good portion of the trip puking her guts up."

"Daryl, I don't want to talk about it, okay?"

"Before you go off," Tobin hurriedly remarked, "I am going to talk to her. I know it was a poor reaction, but she said she understood. We agreed on space."

Daryl glowered. "'Poor reaction'?"

"Okay, it was shit, all right? I didn't plan on this happening, certainly not in this...way. I mean, after what she did, and now she springs this on me?" He gripped the test tightly. "I just need to speak with her. That's all."

"Tobin's joining us," Carl reported. "He said he needed to talk to you about the whole...situation, and I invited him for dinner. I hope you don't mind."

The world began to shift, Daryl's eyes were glued to the pregnancy test that still read: pregnant. He couldn't breathe, his stomach a macrame of knots, and his gut entertained the idea of puking himself. He didn't, but the urge was there, underneath the shock and the horror engulfing his heart and his body.

He climbed unsteadily to his feet, not touching the bed or the test, and he stumbled out to the hall, his hands gripping the railing. Carol was pregnant. She was carrying Tobin's kid. That's why he'd seen them together so much, why he came over for dinner, why Tobin looked so scared when Daryl spoke to him. He assumed Daryl knew the truth and was going to stomp his ass for ditching Carol or whatever the hell he did. He thought...Daryl knew.

He didn't know. He didn't even suspect. He wasn't good at reading that type of thing, especially given that Carol avoided him like he had lice or poison ivy. He didn't even know she could still get pregnant. He'd never thought about it, but he assumed after Sophia, she'd be careful to not get pregnant. He knew that day on the Greene's farm haunted them all to this day, and he thought that'd be a big ass reminder to use protection, if she ever found someone she wanted to be with. He thought she'd be smarter than that, or at least Tobin would be.

His blood began to boil at the thought of the man. Fucking towering tree bastard. His knuckle grew white as his grip tightened on the railing. He didn't know anything about Carol's past. He didn't know shit about her, but he was the one Carol went to. He was the one Carol moved in with and slept with and got pregnant with. He didn't know the half of it, he couldn't have known, yet part of him...was growing inside of Carol. Part of that naive, coward was inside of her.

He was aware the thought of Tobin and Carol in anyway together that made this kid caused his previous urge to hurl to return in full force, and he wanted to punch something. He'd use the wall, but he'd rather not have them see the dent and blood that would be there by the time he was done. He'd have to explain himself, which he couldn't do. Maybe he should just go out and find Tobin and punch the motherfucker for being so goddamn reckless. He didn't know half of her past, and he might...have taken her future.

He shoved off the railing and down the stairs to locate Carol. She couldn't have gone very far. If Rick and Michonne were on her as badly as they had been at Hilltop, she couldn't sneeze without them being there.

––

"Do you feel...less on the verge of a breakdown?" Carol steered them back towards Maggie's home.

"I'm tired." She had her head on Carol's shoulder, like she used to do with her birth mom when she was young and Mom would carry her inside the house. She'd cried so much, and she was wiped. There was no energy in her to feel or want anything beyond rest. It was nice. It was peculiar and lulling. "How do you feel?"

"Tired." On a level no one could understand. "Let's go home and put some real food in you."

"Thank you, Carol." She squeezed the arm she'd looped through Carol's on their walk. "And I am so sorry."

"I know, Maggie, and you're welcome."

Suddenly their serene walk was shattered, Maggie lifted her head from Carol's shoulder as Daryl tore off the porch and over to them, and Maggie watched Carol shrink back. She wasn't able to ask what was wrong before Daryl was in her personal space and barking at Carol, a fire like she'd never seen in his eyes.

"When you were gonna tell me?" he growled.

"Tell you what?" Carol hoped he meant something else—anything else! Her mind ran over all the ways he could have found out, and she didn't understand who would have told him. Who would have broken her trust. She didn't know anyone aside from Tobin, who she hadn't told to keep it to himself. But what would Tobin be doing with Daryl?

"That you're pregnant!"

"He didn't know?" Maggie looked from Carol to Daryl.

"She knew too? With Rick and Michonne and Tobin?!"

Carol stared at him, her tongue might as well have swollen up ten times its size, because she couldn't speak, and she felt like she was suffocating.

"What? Cat got your tongue?" he snarled. "You weren't ever gonna tell me, were you? You were just gonna hope I didn't notice? Was that it? Or were you gonna wait until the last minute?"

"Daryl, you need to back off," Maggie recommended, her sense heightened with a possible threat to the baby. It wasn't Daryl. He wouldn't hurt Carol in any way, but the yelling and getting in her face would generate stress. A lot of stress, as he wasn't backing down, and that would hurt the baby. She wouldn't let that happen. "Now."

"Tobin? Really?" He ignored Maggie. "You know the risks. You know what happened to Lori! You weren't there, but Maggie was. Why don't you tell her about it?"

"Daryl." Carol at last found her voice. "This was an accident. I—I didn't tell you, because I didn't know how! Now that you know, I still don't know what to say to you."

"How about why? Why couldn't you tell me? You don't trust me? You don't think I'd want to know?" There were tears behind the scorching rage in his eyes. "You don't think I'd care?"

"No, no. It wasn't anything like that."

"Then why?"

She faltered, her eyes falling shut. "I don't know."

He scoffed. "How long?

"What?

"How long?" he repeated in a hiss. "How long have you known?"

"Maybe a week now," she murmured. "I had a hunch then...went to Hilltop with Maggie when she began to experience abdominal cramps."

"A week?" He stumbled back a step. "A whole goddamn week?"

"I'm sorry."

"Oh, you're sorry? You're sorry? Should I feel better now? Huh? Should I give a hug and offer you—you some kinda congratulations?" he ranted. "Should I be happy for you? For you and Tobin?"

"That's enough, Daryl." Maggie could see their people forming a distant crowd around them.

"You can't even look at me."

"Daryl." That was Rick. "What's goin' on?" One of the kids came to tell him Mr. Dixon was yelling at the cookie lady in the middle of town.

"He knows," Carol answered, opening her eyes to look at Rick as she couldn't look at Daryl.

"How?" It didn't take rocket science to know Carol hadn't told him, and Rick made sure the ones who knew kept their mouths shut. So how did he find out?

"She wasn't feelin' well, and I saw her throw up, so I brought her some tea to help her upset stomach." Daryl learned he couldn't look at Carol either, so he addressed Rick, "And...I found the test when I was lookin' for a book to cover the top of the cup with, didn't want bugs to get in it. And...she's always readin', so I figured she had to have a book nearby."

"You just found it?" Carol was disbelieving, as she knew where she'd hidden it.

"I thought maybe a book would be under the bed, or between the nightstand and the bed, so I bent down to look. And when I stood up I used the bed to keep my balance, and I guess you didn't fix your bed right 'cause it slid over... The test was just lyin' there."

"Christ." She covered her face with her hands. That was all it took? He was being kind, trying to help, and instead he discovered she'd been lying to him. Fucking hell.

"Did she tell you?" Daryl wasn't demanding, all of the ire had fled his body, but he was curious to know. "Or Michonne? Or hell Maggie?"

"She told me when she...suspected." Rick closed the space between them. "I told Michonne."

"Denise overheard," Carol listed. "I told Tobin, and he told Abe. Enid found out when I fainted, and Tobin took me to see Denise."

"Carl found out through me and Michonne," Rick added.

"I also overheard when they took Carol to see Denise." Maggie crossed her arms. "Then you found the test."

"Did you ever plan on tellin' me?" Daryl's eyes cut to Carol's face.

"Eventually, yes. I would have thought of how to tell you, but for now I just wanted to see if it would last. It's always risky in the beginning, so in a couple weeks who knows if there'll even be a baby to make a fuss about."

"So that's the golden excuse?"

"It's not an excuse!"

"You keep tellin' yourself that." He ran his eyes over her then to Maggie and Rick. "You all knew, and nobody thought to tell me?"

"I made Rick promise not to tell," Carol quickly confessed, not wanting him to blame them. "I asked the others to keep it hush as well. It was my choice to keep this from you. All they did was respect to my request."

"You kept it hush? Just you."

"Daryl—"

He backed up from group, turning his back on them, and he stomped off. Rick tried to call to him, even followed him, but Daryl didn't bother talking. When Rick attempted to force Daryl to stop and look at him, Daryl punched Rick square in the jaw and proceeded to get the hell away from them. Rick held his jaw and could only watch as Daryl mounted his bike and blew out of Alexandria without a second thought.


	9. Reasons

Michonne set a cold compress to Rick's jaw, he winced through his teeth, and he thanked her, holding her hand that was against his jaw. She didn't have to ask why he had a fist-shaped bruise on his lower face. She didn't have to ask why Carol immediately flew up the stairs to her bedroom. The events of why Carol fled to her room and why Rick was holding his jaw were self-explanatory when she heard the rumble of the motorcycle engine coupled with the gate opening.

Rick closed his eyes and tested his jaw, opening and closing his mouth, a twinge of pain shooting through his jaw. He doubted anything was broken, but he'd have a nice shiner for the next couple days. He couldn't be upset with Daryl. They had hidden a massive secret from him regarding his best friend. It didn't sit well with him, within holding this information from Daryl, given that this could be lead to the end of his best friend's life. It wasn't set in stone, but he remembered Lori. And now he had Maggie's loss on his heart. Carol or the baby could meet either—or both—of those ends. Daryl should have known first, being as close to Carol as he was, but Carol might have killed him. She wasn't too thrilled with Michonne knowing, though that was more of how Michonne was treating her, but honestly, she would have found out on her own. She was perceptive.

Still it wasn't his secret to share. He knew he should have told Daryl, but he gave his word. He owed Carol. He cast her out of the prison for killing Karen and David, and he told Morgan he would have done the same thing while they looked for her. She was right then, and he felt any apology he'd given wasn't enough. She mentioned him kicking her out in her note, and she said she wasn't ever going to come back. She wasn't going to return to them, but things happened the way they did, and she wound up saying. He made her think she wasn't welcome in this group, with this family—her family—and that was wrong of him. That was...cruel. He knew in his heart Carol wouldn't have raised a hand or knife or gun to his children yet he said those words to her. He saw the tears in her eyes and dug his words in deeper, brushing away all that she was saying. Because in his eyes she was worse than the flu plaguing the prison, and he didn't consider her to be family anymore. He made a choice that stayed with her, that haunted her as much as killing Karen and David. Had he known her like Daryl knew her, he would have asked how she felt about the whole thing. She said she didn't like, but if he'd pressed he could have broken through that shell and found the woman he'd known since the beginning. Or at least pieces of her.

There was also the fact that he hadn't been there for Lori. He had confirmed daily that she had eaten and was hydrated, but in the end it hadn't been enough. He hadn't done all he could for her, and he lost her. Carl lost his mom. Judith lost her mom. She never would meet Lori, or know how beautiful and kind and protective and fierce she was. Carl had a picture, but it'd been lost with the prison. He didn't want this new baby to only have a picture of Carol to remember her by, and he knew when the time came, it'd be out of his hands, but maybe if he could provide Carol with all she needed, she'd come out of this alive. If she had his—their—unconditional support and protection, if she knew he loved her and had long since forgiven her and knew she was a great woman, an amazing mother, she'd survive whatever would happened in the coming months. It might be a child's hope, but he wanted to know it wasn't a trade: the mother's life for the child's. He wanted Carol to hold her little boy or girl and raise that child to as strong and compassionate and unwavering and resourceful as she was. He wanted to be there with her as this baby and Judith grew, as the next Rhee child grew. So he kept his mouth shut and did as she asked.

He lowered the compress and stood up, walking to the end of the steps where Maggie and Michonne were seated. He said nothing, but his eyes found the silly pictures Carl had taken with Aaron's camera. He smiled, his jaw stinging, and he pressed the compress to it. He hoped he'd see the day Carol and her baby had a picture on that wall.

––

"Hey, Denise." Enid appeared in the doorway, a notebook hugged to her chest, her long hair brushed over her shoulder.

"Hey, Enid." She smiled. "How are you? Need a bandage or anything?"

"No, nothing like that." She neared the blonde doctor. "I'd like to learn from you."

"Learn from me?" Denise cocked her head to the side. "You mean, like a student?"

"Yes." She nodded. "I want to learn how to take of people like you do. I know I'll need certain books and training you might not be able to give, but I want to learn. I want to be able to help people like you do."

"You want to be a doctor?"

"I do."

"Where is this coming from? You never expressed an interest in medical care before."

"With Maggie miscarrying and Carol being pregnant, I realized I want to do more than sit on the sidelines while someone else takes charge. I lost—people who I cared about, because they needed medical attention, medical know how I couldn't provide. I don't want that to happen again." She moved forward. "I'm asking you to please mentor me. I've been reading the books you keep in here when you don't take them to your room, and I'm ready to be taught."

Denise was taken aback by this confession. "Well, I'd love to teach you, but I dunno if I'm the right person."

"You're the only person," Enid corrected. "And I know you can do it."

A weak smile. "All right. Sure. There are a few more texts I'd like you read, the stuff I don't keep down here, so let me know exactly what you've read."

"I've been taking notes, and I'd to review them with you." She smiled and hugged her notepad. "Whenever you're right, that is."

"I'm free now, so let's see what you got."

––

Carol chucked the pregnancy test across the room, where it broke against the wall and fell to the floor, and tears stung in her eyes. She dragged her hands through her hair, sucking oxygen in, and she began to process of composing herself. She was in her bedroom, and she didn't have to do it, but for the baby's sake, she had to cool it right the fuck now.

She knew Daryl would react poorly. It was the reason she prolonged the inevitable. She knew he would yell and possibly even grow violent, not toward her, but perhaps Tobin or a wall or Rick, as he'd decked right in the jaw. She had prepared for that. For the looks, for the distrust in his eyes, for the questions he'd ask her. She thought she'd covered all of it. She thought she could handle anything he threw at her. She wasn't prepared in the slightest for the confusion and hurt in his eyes. She hadn't seen him look like that in a long time, not since that night after Sophia was buried with Annette and Shawn when he lunged at her.

She didn't know if they could come back from this. They used to talk about everything. There were things they didn't touch, simply knew, and Ed's abuse, and Daryl's father's abuse were on that list. Sophia too, oddly enough. The built their bond over those eight months on the road after they lost the farm, where she learned how to shoot from T-dog and Lori, where Daryl taught her how to properly skin an owl or bird or squirrel, where she built an outer shell to protect herself from the next loss. It didn't do much when she took one look at Rick after Daryl brought her out of Isolation, nor when they returned without Andrea. It would seem her shell wasn't good enough.

She sank down onto her bed, her heart aching. She honestly wouldn't mind if the rest of their family didn't speak to her again, but knowing Daryl might never was devastating. He'd been beside her for so long, her man of honor, and she loved him so much. He was the only person in the entire group she could honestly say knew her through and through until she was cast out. He was a friend like she'd never had, and the thought of him avoiding her as she'd avoided him, of him never looking to her or speaking to her, was like a sack of rocks pressing her further into an ocean. She could imagine how he felt these last few days, and she hated herself for that. He hadn't earned her cold shoulder. He was a good man, always stood by what was right and by her, even when she wasn't there. He deserved an explanation. He deserved to know why—exactly why—she hadn't told him.

Yet she still didn't know. There was fear, she could discern that much from the cloud hanging about her. She knew he'd gone there too. He'd thrown it in her face and in Maggie's. Lori had been unable to vaginally deliver Judith. Maggie had no choice but to perform a C-section, and Lori didn't survive. She chose her baby, and she died. It broke her heart, seeing the answer in Rick's eyes, seeing the way Carl ducked his head, how Beth hugged the then-nameless baby girl closer, and she knew how Daryl had reacted when he thought he'd lost her too. She could hear him pacing out there, thrusting the knife in and out, how he worked up the courage to throw open the door. And when she was strong enough to walk, after they'd gone to get Maggie and Glenn, she'd seen the rose the grave intended for her. She knew Daryl had razed the woods to find that flower, to try and begin to mourn her, and she knew he'd gone there the second he saw the test. How could he not? She'd gone there too when she first suspected. He not only had gone there prior to this, but he lived it. It was a brief existence before he found her, but he knew the pain of losing her, and now he might lose her again. It wasn't to Andrew. It wasn't to walkers. It was to the baby growing inside of her. The baby she hadn't intended to conceive, the baby she wasn't sure would survive the next few weeks.

He feared that too, she knew. Her baby might not make it. They had been there when their dear friend, their loved one, a young, healthy woman lost her baby. What was to keep Carol from losing hers? There was nothing concrete about this pregnancy yet. She knew that she could wake up one morning in blood, or like Maggie she could double over in agony. She didn't know if her body could hold another child. She was lucky to have had Sophia. Ed was not a gentle man, and that was putting it lightly. She couldn't guess what would happen in the months to come, and she couldn't assure Daryl the baby would be okay either. He would need to know. Following Maggie's miscarriage, he'd have to know if this child would make it. She just couldn't give him that confirmation.

And then, for her, there was the petrifying knowledge of what happened to Lizzie. She was messed up. They might have been able to help her if the world wasn't in this state, but it was. Carol didn't know what caused a child to think like that, to act like that, but if her baby had the same problem, it would put everyone at risk one day. She didn't want to the be reason they were all killed. She didn't want to contribute unknowingly to that. She'd already given Lizzie the means to kill her own baby sister and nearly Judith.

She buried her face in her hand. She couldn't do this. She couldn't think like this, but it was fresh in her mind. She had to consider all the angles, and that was one of them. It churned her stomach. It wasn't likely. Sophia was a sweet girl, a gentle soul. She couldn't harm a fly. This child would be a little brother or sister to that tender soul, and there was no it could as twisted and dark as Lizzie. Yet Mika had been kind, and Lizzie rotten. Perhaps this child would be her rotten fruit.

With that thought, she flew up off the bed and to the bathroom, retching.

––

Maggie wobbled into the clinic where Glenn was dressing himself, Denise and Enid in the living room together, going over something in the books. She swallowed and knocked, he turned around, buttoning the plaid shirt Rick had left for him, and she smiled softly.

"Hey."

"Maggie." He noticeably swallowed. "How are you feeling?"

"How are you feelin'?" She reached out and brushed her thumb tenderly over the cut on his brow. "Looks painful."

"Yeah, but it doesn't hurt. It did when Denise put that ointment on it, but it's fine now." He captured her hand. "I dropped a piece of wood when I fell from the ladder, must've hit me on its way down."

"Ouch."

"Yeah." He squeezed her hand. "Have you eaten today?"

"A bit." She wasn't lying this time. She pulled her hand back and crossed her arms. "Well, you've missed a lot."

"I know. Eugene came by and told me about the bullet factory. It's impressive. I'm gonna try and lend Rick a hand with it. If he'll let me." He sat on the bed to pull his boots on. "It'd be great for us."

"It would be." She wet her lips. "Carol's pregnant."

A chill ran through his blood at those words, his foot fell in what felt like slow motion to the floor, and his tongue thickened. "What?" he rasped.

She nodded. "A couple weeks pregnant, but she won't know for sure until her next visit."

"Next?" He peeked at her. "Next visit?"

Another nod. "Harlan examined her after me. She took a pregnancy test, and it came back positive."

"Who's the father?" He busied himself with tying the laces.

"Tobin. He's ready to step up to the plate. She's strugglin' with it all. It must be 'cause of Sophia, and Lori too."

"Yeah, it must be."

"I'm gonna help her out when I can. Not...not until later on, maybe the second month when pregnancy's all cemented. I uh, I don't want to crowd her like Michonne and Rick, but I think... I think it'd be good for...for her to have someone there." She didn't want to admit she wanted to be with Carol for her own selfish needs. Seeing a child grow in the womb, feeling it kick—if Carol let her feel—and knowing this could happen would do her wonders. Or so she hoped. She didn't want to be enraged anymore. She didn't want to be jealous anymore. She hoped witnessing life being created would heal her wounds.

And if it didn't, she might learn how Carol got through losing Sophia. The woman was a force of nature, as unstoppable as the wind and rain, but she hadn't always been. Maggie had seen her at the farm, and she'd seen her struggle to find the will to keep on keeping on after Rick killed Sophia. Maybe some of that will would rub off on her. Will or advise, she'd take either at this point.

"I should...check out with Denise, make sure I can get back to work right away." He hopped up and walked by. "Uh, do you want to have lunch later?"

"I promised Michonne I'd look in on Judy, so she could keep tabs on Carol." She hugged her arms closer. "Maybe next time."

"Yeah, yeah." He studied her, not sure if he wanted to kiss her forehead or not, but in the end, he settled on a slight smile before sauntering out to speak with Denise, and Maggie was rather relieved with his decision, having caught the wondering in those round orbs.

– – –

When he ultimately brought his bike to a screeching halt in the middle of nowhere, Daryl stumbled off of it and collapsed onto the hot road. Panted whispers spilled from his lips, the sun-warmed ground searing his palms, and he slammed his fist down onto the road. Once. Twice. Three times. A fourth and fifth until his palm ached and grew wet with blood.

He sat back, his bangs in his eyes, and he shook his head. This couldn't be real. This couldn't be fucking happening! Carol couldn't be pregnant. She couldn't be. After what just happened with Maggie and what happened to Lori... It couldn't be her. She couldn't be the next pregnant woman in their group. There was no goddamn way it was her. She'd confirmed it, but it couldn't be a fact. He refused to believe it was. This world was especially cruel to women who were expecting. He'd yet to see both mother and child survive.

And it was Carol. Carol was the mother. She had already been a mother to Sophia, to Lizzie and Mika, and now a partial mother to Judith—though Michonne was now winning sole mother role for the toddler. Carol, who he'd caught trying to run from the group. Carol, who had been wearing a fake smile and charming the people of Alexandria with cookies and meals and sweet comments. Carol, who was his best friend in this God forsaken shit hole of a world. Carol, who was the last person he ever expected to be pregnant. Carol, who was avoiding him and lying to him and now hiding things from him. Carol, a woman he clearly didn't know anymore. She'd said so herself when they were scrambling through the city to find Beth.

You're not who you were, and neither am I. He didn't put much stock in those words. He told her previously she should keep telling herself that he didn't know her. He thought he knew her quite well, but no matter their past, their current selves had grown apart. She had a new life with the people of Alexandria, with...Tobin. She wasn't his best friend anymore, evidently not if she couldn't bring herself to tell him she was knocked up. Something he had a right to know as her friend, as her family, as someone who...cared about her. But only Rick, the asshole who didn't know the first thing about her, who fucking threw her out of the prison, was worthy of being informed of her condition. Rick and Tobin, the only two she actually told. Nice to know where he stood with her now.

He ran his eyes over the blood on his hand, his eyes skirting over to the scars from his cigarette burns, and his throat contracted. Tyreese, Beth. Those were the last two people from their group they'd lost. He and Noah hadn't had the chance to get close, and while he missed the little gnat, he couldn't say he was crippled with agony over it, not like with Ty and with Beth. They were such good people. Ty reminded him of T so much, with his unyielding positive attitude and the way he was with the older folks. Reminded him of the camp on the quarry when he'd watch the people there and how T-dog popped in on them like a mother hen. He was a good man, and Daryl missed him. There was the fallout of Karen and David, and the turmoil that ate away at him when they all reunited after escaping the train car, but still, Ty was one of theirs, and Daryl respected him. If only he would have made to Alexandria, he'd be in his element with the kids and the people. If fucking only.

And Beth. She was this little annoying, trying tooth and nail to be a cocky, fearless young woman. She was one of the better ones, better than him. She was sweet, always looking out for people and pitching in where she could. She was a tough cookie, and despite the world trying to break her down, she refused. She held her ground, clenched her teeth and became who she had to become to survive. But she was still just a kid. A hopeful, song-singing girl who couldn't resist impulse. That nearly got her killed twice before...it actually got her killed.

He couldn't think of the torture he'd been dragged through should Carol not survive, should her baby not survive. Carol was a big part of his life. She kept coming back like some goddamn boomerang he didn't fucking throw. She was relentless and kind and willing to do or be whatever he needed. She was his rock when he lost Merle, seeing the good in his death, in his sacrifice. She was the first person in his entire life to look at him like he was more than waste of space, an accident, a mistake right off the bat. She saw a man of honor, and he...he was grateful for that. Beyond grateful, he...he...

And now she was slipping out of his grasp, and he didn't know how to make it better, how to prove he could still stand by her through this. To be honest, he wasn't certain he could, but with their history, he believed he deserved a chance to prove himself.

He knew she had a lot to work through. Something happened to her when she was with the girls, something that haunted her, and he didn't know what that was. He didn't press her when she asked why he hadn't asked. Whatever happened out there changed her, but she was still Carol. They were still friends, still family. Hell, he would do anything for her, so why...why didn't she talk to him? Why didn't she trust him? Open up to him? She could bring his walls down, make him face the pain, but when it was her, he couldn't approach her. She wouldn't let him. She would get this distance look in her eyes and shrink away, as if she were afraid to let him know.

But why? She had nothing to be afraid of. Yeah, he blew up this time, because he unveiled this life-changing lie, but he had every reason too, and...

He grunted and ran his other hand through his hair. It wasn't about him. She should have told him, but it was her right to wait. It's her body that's changing. It'll be her body that forms a new life, and she has other priority than telling him. He wasn't the father, and he couldn't be so angry that Tobin was, that she told Tobin about the baby. He had a right to know; it's his kid. Carol has more important things on her mind right now than telling Daryl about a baby she may or may not have in nine month's time. He'd thought about Maggie losing her baby, so why the fuck did it take him this long to reach this conclusion? She had bigger worries than his reaction, number one being losing the life inside of her, and number two being who would raise that life should she not survive labor.

He slumped back so he was lying down on the ground, his eyes narrow at the sinking sun, and he blew out a sigh. He didn't know how to swallow this. He was pissed and confused. His heart heavy. He wanted to be supportive, but so much was at stake.

Shit. He wanted to go back and just deck Tobin right in the jaw. He knew why. He blamed Tobin. It was a two person job, but...he was more inclined to blame that tall motherfucker over Carol. If she lost the baby, or her life, Daryl wouldn't be able to forgive him. Maybe he was being petulant. Maybe he was being the biggest man-baby in the world, but it felt like Tobin was taking Carol away from him. She wasn't a toy or an item, but the bond they had, the friendship, was dying. And here comes Tobin, building a relationship with her and now a family. A family he wasn't apart of. He felt like he had when Rick ditched Merle on the roof, and they couldn't find him. Now he had Rick and the others, but Carol was an important person in his life. And now her baby...

He dragged himself up, wrapping his hand with the handkerchief in his back pocket. Fuck it. It was risky, but fuck it. It'd be worth it, and it wasn't like he had anything to lose. He swung his leg over the motorcycle and drove off into the darkness of night, further away from Alexandria.


	10. Give

Carol rolled over, the light from the morning sun streaming in through her open curtains, and she exhaled, not certain if she'd blacked out for small portions of the night or if she actually slept. If she had slept, it was for shit. She was still exhausted. She could feel it behind her eyes and in her muscles. And she was starving. She hadn't eaten last night. She crawled into bed and evidently blacked out here and there with no recollection of the moments she was awake.

"Hey."

"Jesus!" She shot up, unaware of the person in her room, and she whipped out the gun she had hidden underneath her pillow, but it was only Tobin. "What the hell are you doing?"

He held his hands up in a signal of peace. "Sorry!"

She lowered the gun. "Why are you in my room?"

"I—I came to wake you up, but you were sleeping..." He dropped his hands. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"Then wait on the other side of the door and knock." She huffed. "Why did you want to wake me up?"

"Maggie made breakfast for you, and I came to tell you that." He paused and averted his eyes.

"What else do you have to tell me?" She swung out of bed and narrowed her eyes. "Tobin?"

"Maggie told me to tell you that uh, Daryl's still not back. I don't know what she meant by that though."

"He knows about the baby. He found the test, blew up at me and Maggie and Rick. He actually even punched Rick. He took off on his bike." She sighed. "He can take care of himself. I'm sure once he's worked through his issues, he'll come back."

He was curious why Maggie had him deliver that message, and now he knew why. "Are you okay?"

"Why don't you tell Maggie I'll be down in a bit? I...need to take a shower."

"Yeah, sure."

"And Tobin," she called to him as he began to slip out the door, "knock and wake me up next time."

He nodded.

She closed the bathroom door and sucked in a long breath. She knew Daryl would be pissed, but to leave town and not come back? He wasn't the type to run away from whatever has pissed him off. He was the type to stick around and deal with it. That's who Daryl was.

Had her secret hurt him so badly that he ran? It was a world shaker, but Daryl wouldn't just run until he could deal with this and come back. He bottled things up, but that was it. She knew he was beyond pissed, but he wouldn't flee Alexandria simply because of this. Because of her. There was nothing simple about it, but there was no way in hell he'd skip town. They were his family, even if she wasn't there, and he wouldn't desert them. He cared for all of them, so where the hell was he going and why?

She was terrified for a moment that she'd broken it all—their bond and their relationship. She knew she'd set fire to their trust, but she hoped it could be rebuilt. But if this had destroyed everything they had spend so many months—years—building...

She gagged and gripped the counter, but nothing came up. She couldn't do this to herself right now. Not right now. He'd be back. He wouldn't just leave. He wasn't that man, and when he was back, if he wanted, if he let her, she'd talk to him. If not, if he didn't want anything to do with her, she'd deal. She had no choice, and she would respect his decision. It might be easier if he didn't want to see her.

––

"You did tell her breakfast was ready, right?" Carl ate the last of his eggs.

Tobin nodded. "Yeah. She had to shower."

"See, if we sent Daryl up there, he'd probably carry her downstairs." Carl stood up and took his plate to the kitchen.

Maggie swallowed a bite of cold egg, her stomach still soft, but she had to eat. Michonne was getting on her now, so she had to come over for breakfast and dinner. She minded today, after what happened yesterday and the day before. She wanted to put distance between her and Carol for now. For the sake of their friendship and the sake of Maggie's recovery.

"If Daryl's such a good guy, if he cares about her so much, why did he leave?" Tobin groused.

"You don't know us," Maggie snapped at his tone, remembering how awful it had been cutting into Lori and carrying Judy out, how Rick reacted, how the family reacted, and she couldn't eat anymore. Daryl and Lori weren't best friends, but she was family. Carol was his best friend and family, and how dare he? He didn't know the story. He didn't know their scars. "Don't act like you do."

"Maggie." That was Michonne. "C'mere."

She looked up at Michonne, who was hiding something in her arms, and she stood up, leaving her nearly full plate behind, not even apologizing to Tobin. He'd have to excuse her, and if not, oh well. Who the hell was he to get grouchy over this? Well, the father, but Daryl and Carol were Daryl and Carol, and there was no Tobin involved in that. It's like if Rick started budding in on her and Glenn. Besides it wasn't like he needed to feel threatened by Daryl. Well, he should if Daryl got as pissed at him as he did with Carol. Carol had history and pregnancy protecting her from getting hit—not that Daryl would ever, ever, ever lay his hands on her—but Tobin? It'd be lights out. He sucker punched Rick, for pity's sake. Tobin would be lucky to leave with his teeth in his hand.

"What is it?"

"A gift." Michonne turned, revealing Judith, who held a bunch of wild flowers. "We meant to get them to you sooner, but things are dramatic around here lately. Carl put some in your room a bit ago, and Judith wanted to give you these."

Maggie smiled and blinked back tears. "Well, thank you, Judith." She accepted the yellow and purple flowers from the little angel and smelled them. "Mmm. Where's Carl? I should thank him too before I go."

"He's on the wall today, but he has to do dishes."

"Okay."

Michonne snuggled Judith closer as Maggie headed for the kitchen, smoothing down her light hairs. "Let's hope this is the first step to recovery."

"Whose?" Carol came off the step.

"You're up."

"Late night. I tossed and turned." She shrugged a shoulder. "So, how cold is my breakfast?"

"Ice cold."

"Great." She paused. "Is Daryl really not back yet?"

"No. Rick and I decided to let him cool off. He'll be back when he's ready." She searched Carol's eyes. "I'm sure it's the shock of the news."

"Or the fact that I didn't tell him."

"You wanted to wait, and you have your reasons. It's no one's place to make you rush to tell someone news. Don't feel bad, or blame yourself. It would have been better if he heard it from you, but it's over. He knows, and now it's his to deal with. You need to focus on the baby. Don't stress about Daryl."

Tobin glanced at Carol when she shuffled by toward the kitchen, and he almost called out to her, but he decided against it. Maggie was right. He didn't know the first thing about Daryl, or his relationship with Carol. They would settle this, or they wouldn't. He hoped they did, because it was obviously putting strain on Carol, which wasn't good for her or the baby. Maybe if he talked to Daryl...he could get a nice shiner to match Rick's.

He stood up to leave. Maybe it'd be best if he wasn't here when Daryl got back.

––

Michonne spoke with Olivia that morning, pushing Judith around in her stroller since there was no one else to watch her, but Olivia didn't have what she needed, so she went to Eric and Aaron's. She didn't know if he could help her or not, but she had a feeling if anyone in this town had any yarn, it'd be Eric. He seemed the type who wanted to knit but had no talent or clue how.

Michonne had seen Carol sewing up clothes at the prison when Beth was taking care of Judith, and she figured she knew how to knit or at least crochet. It was supposed to be soothing, or so her grandmother always told her. Carol was under a lot of pressure, and she wasn't going to talk about it, not to her anyway, so she was going to present this to her. If she could find yarn and the needles, that was.

And if it took her too long, she could give it to Carol to pass the dull hours when she became too pregnant to move. Or if the worse should happen. It could be used to help her mourn, or to distract her. Who knows. Carol might just throw it at her, but she was trying. If trying meant anything to Carol.

"How's my girl?" Rick bent down to peer at Judith, having finished his shift. "You two havin' fun?"

"Not really."

"What's up?"

"Do you know where I can find yarn?"

"Yarn?" He was amused. "What for?"

"A gift. I still have to check with Eric, so feel free to say no." She smirked.

"Well, I don't have any yarn, but...the Andersons had a lot of crafting materials. Probably have some yarn in that garage."

She nodded. "Speaking of materials, are you still planning to make the run for the factory?"

"We have to."

"With Daryl MIA, are you sure now's a good time? He was going with you."

"It ain't for another day," he prompted. "Daryl might be back by tonight, and if he's still pissed, I think gettin' outta here for a while will be good for him."

"And if he takes another swing at you?"

"I won't let him get one in this time." He smiled at her, preparing for her quip.

"I'll bet." She crossed her arms over the handle to the stroller. "You just let him clip you right in the jaw like the good friend you are, knocking you on your ass in front of everybody."

"What can I say? I'm a good friend."

She snickered. "I have to find yarn, but you keep tellin' yourself that."

"Have fun. I'm gonna find Carl, let him know about the run, see if he wants in."

She nodded and gripped the handle. "On your way, check in on Carol."

"I don't think that's a good idea. She needs some...distance from us after all that happened yesterday."

"Which is why I want you to make sure Tobin's not there."

"All right. I'll drop by." He leaned over and kissed her lightly. "One day when we aren't caught up with other people's problems, maybe we can...go somewhere, just us."

"We'll both have to be dead," she teased. "We have too many damn problems, not including other peoples'."

"Just give it a try."

"You find me yarn, and I will."

"As you wish." He kissed her once more, said bye to Judith and peeled out to catch Carl before his shift was over. He had no clue where that kid went when he wasn't on the wall or with Judith. He'd have to ask Enid, if she wasn't too busy with Denise and whatever it was they were doing.

– – –

"So, what made you decide to learn this?" Denise continued with her medicine count, making a list of things they'd need later. She didn't want to send Daryl and Glenn out there for this stuff until she needed the equipment. They'd have to break into a hospital, and it'd be incredibly high-risk, but it'd be worth it. They'd have more people, her if they'd let her go, and they'd get it done. This wouldn't be for a while though. She just wanted to keep busy while Enid studied. "I know you already told me, but I mean more of why now? You've been working on those books for weeks now, before Maggie lost the baby."

She looked up and rested her hands on the chapter she'd stopped on. "I don't know. I guess...after what happened with Pete, what nearly happened to you on the run with that walker, I just realized how little doctors there are in this world. I don't want anything to happen to you, but if you were to die or be killed, I don't want us to be helpless. I want to be able to do something, and now sit around and wait for something to fall in my lap. We need to be prepared for whatever happens."

Denise smiled. "You have the passion."

Enid returned her smile a little. "You didn't hear the end."

"Oh, and what's the end?"

"I have nothing else to do." She hopped off the gurney and smiled widely at Denise, hugging the book to her chest. "I'm gonna go grab a snack, but I'll be right back."

"Take your time." She moved to the next shelf and tapped her pencil on the clipboard, writing down another name she imagined Daryl couldn't pronounce. Glenn either, actually. Hell, some of these she struggled with, and she was trained to say their pretentious ass names.

"Did you hear about the fight?" Enid adjusted her sock in her boot, biting into the apple she'd found in the kitchen.

"No. No, I'm afraid I don't get out of here very much." She glanced up. "What fight?"

"The one with Daryl, Carol, Maggie and Rick." She walked over to her and ran her eyes over the list, cocking her head to the side at the thought of trying to verbalize the words written on the page.

"What happened?" She frowned.

"He found out about the baby." She returned to the gurney. "How do you not know this? Everyone knows this, even the people who've never even met Daryl. He's shaken a lot of people up because of the screaming match he had at Carol."

"He was yelling?" Her brows shot up. "And at Carol?"

She nodded. "He was pissed. Beyond pissed, actually. He was on a whole another level of furious."

"Why? Was it about the baby?"

"Yeah, he'd just found out." She crossed her legs and placed the book in her lap. "And he wondered why Carol didn't tell him? I mean, I'd have to slap Carl if he ever got in my face like that."

"Enid."

"What?" She didn't like the mom tone Denise had used on her. "All right. I'm sorry, but he was unreasonable. She's pregnant, for pity's sake. He yelled in the face of a pregnant woman. And she can't weight more than a hundred bucks wet. He doesn't come off as the victim here, you gotta admit that much."

"All right, kid. I want those notes written by the end of the day, and we'll review them tomorrow."

"I just don't think you should treat people like that," Enid softly remarked. "You should be good to the people you love, not scream at them." She didn't love anybody, or have anybody to love, but Maggie was close to her heart. Carl too. She'd lost her parents in one terrible minute, and she didn't want to go through that again. If she could go back and tell them to get their asses inside the car, she would have. If she could go back and only tell them she loved them, she would. You have to be good to the people you love, because tomorrow they might not be there, her dad always said.

"Okay, from our outside view, Daryl yelled at her," Denise leaned against the counter, holding the clipboard loosely, "but try looking at it from his point of view."

Enid bit a massive chunk out of her apple. "Mmm?"

"We don't know his side, do we? We can't judge him for yelling at Carol about the baby, because we don't know what was going through his head, or what happened prior to the fight. We also don't know Carol's side. We only know ours, as viewers."

"You're such a therapist," Enid teased, tucking hair behind her ear.

"I'm better at it than being a doctor, I'll admit, but it's true. You need all of the story before you can judge, and by that point, it just isn't worth judging." She pushed off the counter. "By the way, have you seen Maggie today? Or Glenn?"

"Glenn's at home. I think he's resting." She lowered the apple from her mouth. "And Maggie was at Rick and Michonne and Carol's house last time I saw her. Michonne's making her eat there, so they know she's eaten."

"Okay."

"Why do you ask?"

"I was just curious." She scribbled reminder on the paper. "One of these days, we'll go out and try to find a walker."

"To dissect?"

She nodded. "It'll have to be a...fresher one, so I can show you some things, but it'll help in the long run."

"Great, book work and a field trip. Who said school in the apocalypse couldn't be fun?" She smirked around her next bite of apple.

"At least you're not in a small garage with Carl and the other teenagers."

"There is that." Enid peeked at the blonde doctor. "Hey, Denise?"

"Yes?" She paused in her work.

"You're good teacher." She smiled a little. "And I am looking forward to learning more."

"What else have I got to do?" Enid laughed and shook her head, and Denise inhaled. "Get to work, kid. It's a big ass book."

"You don't have it on your lap. I think it's cutting off the flow of blood to my legs."

"Trust me, you don't want to use the desk." She smiled to herself at the memory and shook her head, writing down the next name.

– – –

"Carol." Michonne leaned in her doorway. "Did you hear me? I called you for dinner."

"Yeah." She was sitting on the foot of her bed. "I'm not hungry."

"You being hungry doesn't matter. The little fetus is."

"No, the fetus is trying to make me puke up my stomach." She hadn't looked at Michonne. "I don't think I can keep anything down right now."

"Is it because of what happened yesterday with Daryl?" She strolled over to Carol when she didn't reply. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No, I really don't, Michonne. I'd rather just go to bed."

"Not on your life." She crossed her arms. "You need food. You barely touched your breakfast, or your lunch, so you're not skipping dinner."

"Michonne, I'm a grown woman. I don't need you making decisions for me."

"And as a grown woman, you know how this works. You knew you'd puke up your breakfast yesterday, but you still ate it. So, if it's about Daryl, let it go. He'll be back. He wouldn't run off and get himself killed just because you're pregnant and didn't tell him. He'll work it out his way." She kept the sharp edge out of her voice. "I can't make you eat, but consider this: Maggie's downstairs. She'll know you didn't come down for dinner. She was here for lunch too, so she knows you and the baby haven't eaten much at all today. You know where her thoughts will go. You haven't exactly expressed joy or elation at the news of being pregnant."

"Michonne—"

"I don't know what's going on with you, or what happened to you, but I do know you can't let this small life suffer, because you're miserable. You've always put the needs of our family above your own needs. Well, guess what? This baby is your family. It's your blood. So come downstairs and eat."

"I'm too tired to have this fight right now." She stood up and walked out of the room.

Michonne narrowed her eyes and followed her down to the dining room, Maggie and Carl were taking about something they'd seen while on the wall, Rick was trying to feed Judith crushed carrots, and Rosita was staring off into space, scooting boiled carrots around on her plate. Carol found a seat beside the zoned out Espinosa, and Michonne took her seat.

Maggie noted how Carol wasn't eating much. "Not a fan of boiled carrots?"

"Spencer made beef jerky stroganoff." Rosita pointed to the dish beside her. "I'm not a fan of stroganoff. You have it."

"I could have beef jerky stroganoff and nobody told me?" Carl reached over and lifted the lid off the white dish.

Carol and Maggie both cringed at the scent, though Carol cringed to the point of hurrying from the room to puke, and Maggie crinkled her nose. Rosita pushed it toward the kid, Carl and Rick were eager to try it, and Michonne laughed at how they were fighting each others fork for the bigger pieces of jerky. Maggie looked at the doorway Carol had bolted out of and excused herself.

She was about to go to the bathroom down the hall and check on Carol, but a certain sound rumbling outside caught her attention. She called to Rick and Michonne when she heard boots on the porch, and they hurried out as the front door opened. Maggie was right. It was Daryl.

He looked like a mess. His hair was unruly, his jacket coated with walker blood, and his knuckles were bloody. He was a little sun burnt, his lips cracked, and he was holding something in his hand. He had been gone for nearly an entire day, and he returned to Alexandria looking like he'd been walking through the desert for twenty years. Where the hell had he gone?

"Are you okay?" Michonne was the first to speak.

"I need to talk to Carol," he croaked. "Where is she?"

"I don't think that's a good idea," Rick stated. "Why don't you come and join us? We're havin' dinner, and you look like you need somethin' to drink."

He shook his head. "I needa see her."

"Why?" Maggie crossed her arms. "So you can yell at her again? Put even more stress on her?"

He dropped his gaze then sighed and scratched the back of his head. "It's important, just lemme see her, all right?"

"She's in the bathroom," Michonne pointed to the one down the hall. "Dinner didn't sit well with her."

"Thanks."

Michonne stopped him. "I hear you raise your voice even once, Dixon, and you're out the door, ass first, you understand?"

"Yeah, but I ain't gonna raise my voice."

"It's just a warning."

Daryl didn't doubt she would kick his ass, but he needed to see Carol. If this turned into a screaming match—he really hoped not—then it did. He had no control over how Carol would take his return. He didn't want to get off on the wrong foot again, because he wanted to prove that he could stand by her through his. He wasn't the best with words, but he knew how to make thoughtful gestures, and he hoped this would do, because he didn't want to her to be mad at him. He didn't want to be mad at her. He wanted to reconcile and help her anyway she would let him. Though with the Mom Squad on it, she had more help than she needed or wanted.

He ambled toward the bathroom, hearing the toilet flush, and he swallowed. He gripped the item in his hand tighter and waited, hearing the sink being turned on, and he wondered what she was going to say to him. What she was going to think of him. He knew things between them had change, and they both noticed it now. He wasn't sure how he felt about her, but he was at the same time. He knew without a second thought, and all the changes, this lie, didn't affect their history. He wouldn't let it entirely change their future. He'd lost too much to lose her while she was still right in front of him.

The door opened, Carol stepped out and halted at the sight of Daryl, taking him in and frowning.

"Are you all right?" She reached out to touch him, but her hand faltered and dropped.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

Silence. Awkward, uneasy silence spread around the two, Daryl shuffled his weight from foot to foot, and Carol hugged her cardigan tighter around her. Neither one knew how to begin having this talk. Carol didn't know what to say, how to apologize, how to make it right, and she wasn't sure she could. She wasn't sure they could, and it made her nearly want to retreat into the bathroom.

"I was an ass," Daryl asserted, meeting her gaze. "I shouldn't have yelled."

"You had every right to yell, Daryl." She dropped her gaze. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I know what you must be thinking, and it wasn't that I didn't think you wouldn't care or wouldn't know to know. It wasn't that, I assure you. It's complicated, and I wish I had the words to tell you why, but... I don't."

"How come you could tell Rick so easily?"

She lifted her eyes. "Honestly, I only told Rick because...he was convenient. He was right there, after you all left." She knew she didn't have to explain much to Rick. He wouldn't ask how she felt about the whole possible pregnancy, and he wouldn't poke and prod her like Daryl would. Daryl would do it, because he knew her, and because he cared. Rick cared, but Rick was easy to please. That's why she told him. That, and he still felt guilty about casting her out. She knew he'd keep her secret.

"Did you even plan on tellin' me?"

"Of course I did. I just... I didn't know how. It's not like saying I'm going on a run or have a sprained ankle. It's a baby. I don't know how I feel about any of this, and I knew you'd want to know, but I can't answer that question." Some of her fears were tied to the girls, and she was trying her best not to go there again.

"Why not?"

"It's complicated." She could feel the tears in her eyes, and he must have seen them, because he ducked his head. "And I can't right now."

"Will you ever be able to tell me?"

"I don't know. Maybe. Maybe not."

"It's fine either way, you know. I...I get it, sorta." He held his hand out. "I—I got these for you."

She lowered her eyes to the item in his hand then reached out with both of her hands to accept it. It was a bottle of folic acid pills. It was dirty with dust and a bit of walker, but otherwise in good condition.

"Lori and Rick talked about it a lot when she was pregnant with Lil' Ass Kicker," he explained. "I—I don't know if it'll help or not, but I thought it'd...be a nice gesture."

"Where did you find these?"

"A pharmacy. It's a bit out of the way, but I figured that didn't matter. It was a pain in the ass tryin' get inside, but—"

"Daryl," she gently interrupted him. "You didn't have to do this."

"I wanted to, for you and...the kid."

"This is why you were gone for so long?" She held up the bottle. "This?"

He nodded. "You might already have it in the prenatal vitamins, if Harlan gave you any, and you don't have to use 'em. I'm sure Denise can find another use for 'em, if you don't need 'em." He lowered his eyes. "It ain't a big deal, just wanted to apologize, show...some support."

"Stop talking, Daryl."

He nodded, his eyes on the floor, and he nearly flinched when she hugged him suddenly. He hadn't even seen her move, but she was in his arms. He'd hugged her twice before, but this was the first time she was initiating it. He didn't know what it mean beyond a thank you, but he hoped it meant they weren't back to square one. He wrapped his arms tighter around her shoulders. He really hoped it didn't meant that. He wanted to be there for her, for the kid, for whatever the hell would come next. He didn't know what to expect, but he never really did unless it was with walkers or assholes.

Carol dug her fingertips into the worn, dirty leather of his jacket, her face buried in his shoulder, and she closed her eyes. He smelled like sweat and grime and walkers and dust, and oddly it wasn't the worst scent of the evening. She was so glad he was home, and she was relieved he wasn't livid or physically injured too badly. She knew there were still feelings of confusion there, maybe even anger he didn't know was lingering under the surface; and she knew they might never go away, and they had a lot to talk about, but it could wait. It could wait, because she was just glad he came home.

"You need to get cleaned up." Carol released him. "Take a shower, and I'll wrap your hand."

He nodded.

"And thank you for the pills. Folic acid is good for the baby." She smiled and turned the bottle over in her hand.

"I got some more stuff while I was there, but it's mostly for the clinic."

"I'll take it to Denise."

"Nah, it's a heavy bag. I'll take it to her tomorrow. Don't worry about it."

"All right. I'll get the first aid kit. Shower." She paused before heading to the kitchen to get the kit. "Or I really will hose you down."

He smiled a little when she walked away, and he untied the bandanna from his hand, entering the bathroom. He had a couple other things he'd gotten that weren't for Carol or Denise, but he wanted to wait. He didn't want to prematurely give them to her, as she'd said there might not be a baby in a couple weeks. He'd wait until it was a sure thing then give them to her. He didn't know how he felt about the baby, but it was hers, and she was...very significant to him. So in a way the baby was too. He'd take care of them both, his feelings didn't matter. Their health, their safety, their survival—they mattered deeply to him.

– – –

They sat on the steps, Michonne was warming up a plate for him, Maggie had gone home, and Rick and Carl were reading Judith to sleep. Carol cleaned the wound, despite the fact that he'd showered, and she gingerly wrapped his hand. He could tell she'd mostly cleaned them to ensure they weren't bite marks, and he didn't want to explain what had happened on the road, but he had a feeling she'd worked it out when she figured out they weren't bite marks. Dixon anger. It wasn't a hard thing to figure out.

"Is this too tight?" She met his eyes, smoothing the adhesive strip over the wrap.

"It's fine."

She lowered her hands to her lap. "You need to be more careful."

"You're one to talk," he unthinkingly griped. He winced internally and tried to rectify his hasty tongue, but she laughed.

"I guess we both need to be more careful," she remarked in a hush tone when she stopped laughing.

"I'm goin' with you," he told her.

"With me where?"

"To see Harlan next. I dunno when it is, but I'm goin'."

"You don't have to do that. I'll have Rick and Denise, and I handle my own."

"It ain't just your own anymore."

She sighed without saying a word.

"I wanna be there," he imparted, "no matter what happens. You gonna stop me?"

She smiled at him softly, remembering all those months ago when she said those words to him on the road. "No, I'm not." She crossed her arms and leaned back against the wall. "I don't mind either, just don't expect any special treatment."

"Special treatment?"

"I'll be alone for the first examine."

"All right. That's fine." He stood up with her and narrowed his eyes. "Wait, only the first?" He could be there for the second? Or third? If it all checked out?

Her smile widened. "Good night, Daryl." She headed up the stairs. "We can talk more later. For now, I need some sleep."

"Yeah, night."

"Night."

So, if it all went well, he could be in the room for the second one. He could see the baby on the monitor and all of that with her. He watched her shuffle toward her bedroom, rubbing her shoulder, and his lips pulled in a small smile. He'd like that.

– – –

It was early the next morning when Daryl rolled out of bed, his hand no longer burning or aching, and he felt better. He didn't have the knot he'd woken up with since they returned from Hilltop. Probably because he knew why Carol was being distant. It was a load of worry off his shoulders. Now he had a new load. Two new loads, but he'd try not to be bothered by them.

He slipped out of the house before anyone woke, and he sauntered down the street, seeing the patrols and the wall people exchanging greetings, and he saw Abraham heading out for his job with a few of the men he'd gotten close to. Daryl knew he didn't much time, so he picked up his pace and found the house he was looking for.

Tobin exited his home and spotted Daryl Dixon at the end of his steps. He had heard from Francine—after Carol told him—that Daryl went off on Carol and Rick when he found out about the baby, and he had been expecting this. He didn't know if he'd get hit too, but it was likely. Daryl didn't know him or like him, and he was close to Rick and Rick had walked away with a bruise. It wouldn't be pretty, whatever Daryl had in mind.

"Morning," Tobin greeted him.

"Mornin'."

"What can I do for you?"

"I just wanted to let you know that I'm here, that I know about Carol's baby, and I got her back."

"That's good."

"And if anything happens to her, if you hurt her in any way, or try somethin' just 'cause she's carryin' your kid," he lowered his voice to a lethally low tone, "I'm comin' after you."

"What?"

"You heard me." With that, he walked off to meet Rick. They had a run to go on with Glenn. Daryl wanted to be there, support the kid through it as best he could, and he wanted to put some space between him and Carol for a little bit just so he could work out where the hell his emotions were. He couldn't make sense of them the last couple days, and he didn't want to avoid Carol, so this run was the best way to get it sorted. When they came back, maybe he'd have his thoughts organized and his feelings, because shit, it was like a train wreck inside of him. They could have that talk then.


	11. Alone

The trio wandered the street of the town they'd stopped in, looking over the area for both materials for the factory and supplies. They had list from just about every job, all of them needing something, and they were keeping an eye out. It couldn't hurt to be well-stocked.

Glenn was in the middle of Rick, who as always took the lead, and Daryl, who was silently lagging behind, clearly absorbed in his thoughts. He was glad to be out of Alexandria, looking for ways to try and further ensure the future and survival of it and its people. He knew they'd be back within a day or two, but for now it was just them and the world. He could handle that. His guard was up, his ears listening for the telltale sounds of walkers, and he had his weapon at the ready if they ran into any assholes like the ones who kidnapped Maggie and Carol.

Rick could hear Glenn and Daryl behind him, and he could tell them apart. Glenn was lifting his feet, his boots not making much noise, but Daryl would inadvertently drag his feet now and then. He could hear the bottom of his boots scraping across the ground. He didn't have to linger on what was distracting Daryl. Or why Glenn was so quiet. It wasn't just being so exposed that had his teammate, his family, silent as the grave. He didn't want to provoke Daryl, if he had any anger left in him, and he didn't want to pester Glenn. They both had a lot on their minds, a weight on their chests, and he knew both somewhat well.

Daryl's body was tense, ready for any random attack, but his mind was drowning in the many thoughts clogging it. They all revolved around the baby and Carol, how much Carol had changed and how he felt about those changes, how he felt about her. It was dizzying, to be frank, and he realized he wasn't at all into this run right now, but he was alert. He wouldn't put them in danger simply because he couldn't work out what the hell was happening to him.

They continued their trek through the town, Rick stopped to peer through a dirty window, seeing if they were any items worth taking, and he spotted something in the back. It would be a bitch to carry, but it could prove useful.

– – –

It'd been a full day since Glenn, Daryl and Rick left Alexandria to search for supplies, Michonne put Carol in charge of Judith as she filled in for Rick, and Maggie took a couple of Rick's shifts. Michonne was hesitant, but in the end she decided if Maggie thought she ready to be back on the clock then she was ready. Or at least ready to be distracted.

Michonne traded shifts with Spencer to slip back to the house and check on Carol and Judith. She called to them, but there was no answer. She checked the kitchen and living room, even her and Rick's room for the two, but they weren't there. She didn't panic, because she heard giggling. A baby giggling happily, and she followed the sound until she found Judith in Carol's room, playing with a knitted bunny.

"Hey, Judy." She sat on the bed beside the toddler. "Whatcha got there?"

"A gift from Maggie and Glenn." Carol was sitting in the doorway to her bedroom. "She weeded it out and refused to let go of it."

Michonne smiled. "She likes it."

"Mmm."

"You okay?"

"Yeah, it's just... I'm a little beat."

"If you want, I can take Judy while you get some rest."

"Would you?"

"Of course." She picked Judith up and adjusted her grip on the bunny so it didn't fall to the floor. Judith would get upset, maybe even wail, and while giving the toy back would sooth her, Michonne didn't want to hear her cry.

"Your shifts," Carol began to protest.

"I'll drop her off with Maggie if I absolutely can't avoid my shifts. She'll be off the wall in an hour."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"No, but with Enid busy at the clinic and Carl already picking up the slack from Daryl and Rick being on a run, there's no one else I trust to leave Judith with." She trusted the Alexandrians, but this was Judith. Judy didn't take well to strangers. She wasn't a big fan of Gabriel, but she adjusted to him. Michonne didn't want to expose her to someone she'd been briefly held by.

"Thanks."

"Get some sleep." She carried Judith out of the room and down the stairs.

Carol closed her eyes and waited until the front door shut then climbed to her feet and padded down the stairs, slipping out the back door. She knew how to avoid those on patrols and on the wall. She knew the kids were still in school, and she knew the women and men of Alexandria had their assigned jobs to do, so she was confident she wouldn't run into anyone. Unless they were following, or trying to find her.

– – –

Rick busted through the window, Daryl and Glenn were on the lookout for walkers who could hear the shattering glass and would be drawn to the sound, and Rick did a sweep of the inside of the store. It was empty, save for the items they would be taking with them, and Rick decided then they'd need another car to haul it back to Alexandria.

"Glenn and I will look for a truck," Rick announced to the party. "Daryl, why don't you stay here and secure the area? Keep an eye on the goods."

"All right." Daryl was sitting on the ledge of the store window. "If I came across people?" Or more like if they came across him.

"Watch them," Glenn answered. "Decide what to do with what you learn about them."

Rick glanced at the younger man and nodded. "We'll be back."

"Don't gotta worry about me," Daryl grumbled.

"I know, just lettin' you know."

Daryl remained where he was seated, Rick and Glenn searched the area for a truck, and Rick didn't know which of the two would be more willing to talk to him about their problems. He knew Daryl was pissed and bemused and worried. It wasn't something just anybody could pick up on unless they were excellent at reading people, or if they knew Daryl like Rick knew him. It didn't take many guesses to figure out what still was going on in his head right now, and Rick wasn't sure he could help him. He didn't know if Daryl fully knew the problem himself. The obvious issues on the matter were evident, but there were underlying issues Rick wasn't positive Daryl knew about them, or even wanted to scratch the surface of.

As for Glenn, he was still wrestling with what happened at Hilltop. Rick wasn't certain he could broach the subject with him. He'd never seen Glenn like this before. He'd seen him after the Governor had taken him and Maggie, and the pangs of guilt and fury that boiled up inside of him. He'd seen Glenn after they lost Beth, and the agony that showed in his eyes from her death and Maggie's suffering. He hadn't been all there mentally to properly recall their reactions when they lost Lori and T-dog, but he'd seen the other losses and how Glenn reacted to them. Yet this was different. Even if he put himself in Glenn's shoes, he couldn't begin to comprehend what would be going on inside of him, aside from what he'd learned from his own past anguishes and how he'd processed them.

Though what Rick did or thought or what mindset he put himself in didn't matter, because this was Glenn, and it wasn't the Governor who'd hurt him. It wasn't some asshole criminal who wanted to get even. It wasn't cannibals. It wasn't even the bastards who kidnapped Maggie and Carol. It was an excruciating mystery. It swept into their lives and claimed the life Maggie and Glenn had made together. It was bigger than simply just the baby. It always seemed to be bigger, a hidden meaning lying there in the wake of tragedy, and there wasn't a patch for it. There wasn't a quick fix, or even a lengthy fix. It would take time and maybe a couple of talks with Denise and a hell of a lot of work to survive this devastating accident, but he would never truly be over it. It'd always be with him, a piece of him.

There were repairs to be made within Glenn, thoughts and doubts and anxieties to quell in the days and weeks and months to come. He would have to find a way to look at himself and not assign some kind of blame for what happened to his child. He would have to find the strength to get up every morning and not hate the world, not hate himself, for what occurred. And most of all, he would have to figure how...he and Maggie fit together now. The precious, elated image of their marriage and bond had been tried and somewhat shattered due to the miscarriage. He still—and always—loved her, trusted her, had faith in her one hundred percent, but there was a voice now, in the back of his mind. It would creep up on him at any given moment, and he'd started to question and doubt and fear all over again. It would eat and eat until it devoured him, their love and their relationship whole. It was a greedy little voice, and it lived to destroy.

Rick gazed at the young man beside him and hoped Glenn was stronger than he was. That voice had ripped him and Lori apart, and he didn't want that for Maggie and Glenn. The love they have was pure and potent; something for any stranger to look upon and know there was still good in the world if a love like that could not only happen but burn and grow against any wind and storm. He hoped they got that back. Their fire was starting to dwindle, and if this continued, it would die out entirely.

"How's the jaw?" Glenn suddenly inquired, breaking the silence as they strode through vacant streets.

"The muscles twitch when Daryl raises his hand," Rick mused, "but otherwise fine."

Glenn wanted to chuckle, but it didn't escape through the lump in his throat, and he stopped walking to look at Rick. "Are you going to come out and ask me what you want to ask me?"

Rick sighed. "Would you even honestly answer me?"

"No, because I don't know what the hell I feel right now, Rick," he blurted. "I don't feel anything. I can't even be in the same room as my wife, and now here we are trying to find materials for the factory, to secure our future when I don't know what the hell is waiting for me in my future. And on top of that, you want to...get that stuff?"

"She'll need it."

"I know. I know she'll need it, but it's like a punch in the gut."

"I know how it feels to—"

"Don't sympathize with me!" Glenn roared, forgetting himself and their surroundings. "You never lost Carl! He's always come back from it all. He's a tough kid. And Judith is damn lucky! Don't tell me you know what I'm feeling. You only thought you lost Judith for about, what? A week? My baby is dead, Rick. That doesn't compare. There isn't a glimmer of hope for me and Maggie. There was no Tyreese and Carol to save our baby. It's just gone! Don't you dare try and sympathize with me and my loss!"

Rick watched him storm off toward a truck at the end of the street, and he shook his head. He was right. Rick could say he understood, but in the end, he couldn't. Tyreese and Carol had saved his baby girl, and Carl had the strength of his mother. There was nothing to compare, and Rick should stop trying. Glenn had to fight this alone, it seemed.

Or at least with someone other than him.

––

Daryl squinted at the sun that reflected off the glass and ground around him, and he kept his senses sharp. He knew he had to, being here alone, and he was ready to take on anything that came for him. Part of him was ready to pounce and kill if the situation called for it, but the other part was focused on Carol. Carol and the baby and Tobin.

He had a nightmare about the whole thing last night. He thought it was a sick joke his brain was playing on him, envisioning Carol and Tobin together in any way, and then the nightmare got worse. So much worse. Carol was suddenly in labor and the baby...just tore through her. She was crying and pleading and screaming, and the baby was ripping her apart. It was dead, and it was feeding on her, infecting her and killing her, and Daryl was the only one in the room. He had to do something—anything—to stop that monster, to save Carol, but of course there was only one thing he could do to end it all.

He woke up before he had to kill either one of them, but it was haunting him. He'd thought about it the whole trip to the pharmacy and back. He couldn't keep it from his thoughts, and it shook him to his core. Losing the baby and Carol in one awful moment was something he knew would stay with him throughout her pregnancy, and he knew he'd subconsciously stick close to her to try and prevent that outcome. That was why he got the pills, to keep the baby strong and alive, and also to show her he was there for her, as always.

Although he knew he couldn't be there for her on the day. She was his family, his best friend, hell even part of him, but he couldn't be there in the delivery room with her, knowing all the things that could go wrong. She would have all the support of the women, and maybe she'd let Rick in there, but he couldn't do it. He knew it could all be okay, but he knew it could all go badly wrong within a matter of seconds. Seconds were a powerful and dreadful thing, and he fucking hated them. All it took was one of them to ruin everything, to cause the world and the peace and homes to collapse, and he couldn't do it. He couldn't in a room or area where he couldn't control every second, not after the last time.

The smoke rising into the air, the neighborhood kids pedaling down the road to see what was going on, and he was running, running, running only to find his house on fire.

The walkers filling the yard, the blaring alarm, Carol's pained cry as the walker sank its teeth into T-dog, the rest of their family scattering as he and Rick raced to the gate.

She wasn't sorry.

Lair.

Turn it off.

I get it now.

Get out of here, man.

He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the blood splatter on his hand when he plunged the knife in, and his stomach churned. Yeah, he fucking hated seconds.

"Daryl."

He opened his eyes and found a truck with Rick behind the wheel. He rose and looked for Glenn.

"He went on ahead to look for supplies." He tossed the keys at him. "You'll drive it back. I...think that's best."

"Yeah." He stuffed the keys into his pocket. "Brought an extra bit of gas, right?"

"Yeah."

"Let's get this done then."

Daryl kicked open the front door, Rick tested one of the displays, wanting to make sure it'd hold, and Daryl loaded one of the boxes into the bed of the truck. Some assembly required, but it might be more sturdy than the one Rick was shaking, and if not, they'd just grab one of them too. They had to room, and there were always more cars. He could hot wire a car if he had to, and Glenn could drive moderately well. With the tension in this group, they might as well drive back to separately. The ride here was practically unbearable.

"What's the difference here?" Daryl pointed between the hanging white basket and the crib to the left. He partly wondered if it was just for the starry night display, to make it cute and sucker in moms-to-be, but he had a feeling there might be a purpose beyond money. It was a little basket with a doll in it, and it couldn't just be for show. Could it?

"That," Rick pointed to the white hanging basket, "is a bassinet."

"The hell's a bassinet?"

Rick chuckled at the confused tone in Daryl's voice, and he knew Daryl thought it was stupid to have two of what he thought were the same thing. "A newborn's pretty small, Daryl, you know that, and some people like to keep 'em in bassinets 'cause they're small too, not much wiggle room."

"Why wouldn't you want the kid to roll?"

"It's a baby. You don't want it to roll at all," Rick answered, slight horror in his voice. He knew Daryl didn't know much about babies. Beth tended to Judith after that first feeding, and he only hung around now and then to talk to Carol. The most he knew likely was changing a diaper and feeding. "Carl spent a long while all coiled up like he was still in the womb, and Lori kept him in a bassinet to keep him snug, said it was cozier. She was really worried about SIDS too. She read up on it, thought the bassinet would be safer."

"What?" His brows furrowed, his heart increasing in its rhythm, having an inkling that he wasn't going to like what Rick was about to tell him.

"SIDS. It stands for sudden infant death syndrome. Blankets and quilts, which you'd use with a crib, raise the risk of SIDS." He saw the frown crossing Daryl's face. "Besides a bassinet's small, and before we moved into our house, we didn't have a lot of room. It made carting Carl around easier."

"So, even if the kid makes it and is healthy...this sudden death thing can happen? Why?"

"It's unexplained."

"That's bullshit." There was a rage in his voice, and he had a feeling his mind just came up with a new to terrorize him in his sleep. Shit, what must be happening in Carol's thoughts and dreams right now?

"Yeah." He walked over to the display and pulled out his knife to cut down a bassinet. "We should bring one back with us."

"What else?" Daryl took the bassinet from Rick.

"What else what?" He checked the diapers in the display and tossed them in the bassinet, meeting Daryl's eyes. "What else can happen?"

"Yeah."

"I don't know all of it, Daryl. I'm not a doctor, and Lori did most of the reading." He knew that wasn't going to pacify his friend, and he scanned the store. "We might be able to find a book or two on pregnancy. You can read up on it, maybe ask Harlan about it when we take Carol up to Hilltop. I mean, I don't know how much good it'll do, but it's up to you."

"We got time." Daryl set the bassinet down and began to search for both books and any other supplies the baby and Judith might need.

Rick smiled to himself at his friend's behavior. If he didn't know the facts, he would swear Daryl was the father of this kid. He knew that wasn't a possible with how Daryl had been the last couple weeks and especially with how Carol had been. She avoided Daryl, and it wasn't because they'd had drunken sex in the backyard. It was something she was hiding from them, something Tyreese had hinted at while they were staying at the church, and he knew Daryl was probably the only person who could get it out of her. She and he were like Maggie and Glenn without physical relationship and marriage.

Daryl was certainly acting like a father-to-be, or a very concerned friend. With all Daryl had lost, it was no surprise. Carol was one of the last few things that kept Daryl from completely snapping and going mad. He was a tough man, been through hell and back, but he walked on the edge just like any of them, and Rick could tell he wanted to avoid plunging into the darkness. Once you were in it wholly, there was no escaping. It was a stain, and it'd consume all the parts of yourself that make you human and, well, you. It wasn't surviving or being alive. It was a pitiful existence, and he'd seen the shadows of it dancing around Daryl after they lost Beth in Grady. It had danced around Maggie too, but they had their anchors. They had Glenn and Carol right there, but if Carol were to be taken from him...

Rick ducked his head and bent down to pick up a couple stuffed animals for Judith. He wiped the dusty and bits of fallen display off its head and peeked at Daryl once more. It dawned on him then that these battles, these struggles, were ones Daryl and Glenn had to work through by themselves. He didn't have the experience to aid either of them, because that plunge was different for everyone, and he couldn't compare his to theirs. He could only hope to be here when they found their way back.

– – –

Maggie watched Judith play with the knitted bunny she'd given to Carol, smiling at her little face, and she rested her head on her hand. She didn't mind watching Judith. They all had jobs to do, and Michonne's was to fill in the space the boys had made by leaving for their run.

"You were gonna have a friend," Maggie whispered to the light-haired toddler. "I don't know if it was gonna be a girl or a boy, but you were supposed to have a friend. I mean, you couldn't play with them for a while...but you guys would have liked each other."

Judith looked at her with the eyes of Lori and smiled a little.

"Yeah." Maggie snuffled. "I know we couldn't paint or decorate a nursery, but that didn't matter. We would make the room feel like home. Glenn and me." Her gloss green eyes met the ceiling. "I don't know what name we would have come up with, but I think if it'd been a girl I'd have given her Beth as a middle name. There's no way she couldn't be as sweet and as loving as Beth.

"Or for a boy...Hershel as a middle name. Daddy was...a stubborn and foolish and gentle man." She chuckled weakly at the thought of her father. "He was resilient and wise. He learned from his mistakes and taught me—taught us—so much. I don't know who I'd be today without him, and I think my son would have brought honor to the name."

Judith watched Maggie, nibbling on the ear of the bunny.

"But it doesn't matter now." She reached out and stroked Judy's cheek, smiling sadly. "You won't have a friend."

Judith fussed softly, as if understanding and mourning the loss of her friend.

"But don't worry, don't worry. You won't have a friend from me, but from Carol. I know it." She captured the bunny and made soft smooching sounds as she pressed it to Judith's cheeks. "We need another sweet child around here, and I'll fight tooth and nail to ensure that happens. You'll get a friend, and we'll make sure Carol's taken care of, won't we? They'll be all right. We'll make sure of."

She giggled.

"Yes, we will." She snuffled and wiped at her eyes, engulfing the toddler in a hug Maggie desperately needed. She closed her eyes and rocked Judith, trying to keep the tears away.

– – –

Carol wandered the less occupied parts of Alexandria. She knew there wasn't a chance in hell Michonne would let her come out there, so she had to lie and distract her. Michonne, much like the rest of her family, was concerned about the well being of the baby and by extension her, so a little white lie it was. In the long run, it would benefit all of them if she succeeded. If she failed...well, she'd cross that bridge when she came to it.

"Carol?"

She whirled around at the sound of his voice and mentally groaned. "What are you doing out here?"

"What are you doing out here? I thought you were tired."

She glared. "You're stalking me inside the walls now?"

"No." Morgan stepped toward her. "I just...heard it from the grapevine."

"I needed some air, so I'm taking a walk." She shrugged. "You can go now."

"You shouldn't overexert yourself."

"It's just a small walk around town."

"I know," he informed her. "I also heard it from the grapevine."

"So?"

"So, you should be inside where it's cooler. You need to stay hydrated." He paused to ask, "Have you even eaten lunch?"

"Morgan, the last thing I want or need from you is concern. Just go back and leave me alone." She turned on her heel and continued toward the empty houses.

"Do you intend to move into one of them?"

"It's none of your business what I intend."

"I was only asking."

"Well, stop!" She faced him. "I don't have anything to say to you, and I don't care what you think you have to say to me. We're not on the same page. You can't imagine anything I've gone through, so don't stand there and try to "help me through it", okay?"

"You can't do it alone," he urged. "Everything's about people. Everything in this life that's worth a damn, that's what I know. And you trying to be out there on your own will only get you killed. It's not just you anymore, Carol. To be honest, it was never just you."

"Do you really not get it? After everything that's happened." Those sapphire orbs narrowed and boiled as her aggravation towards the man in front of her increased. "I made my decision, because it was the only one I had. If you care about people, there are people to protect. There are people that you will kill for. If you don't want to kill, or...if you can't? Then you have to get away from them. You do not get both. You—you should know."

He shook his head. "There are other ways."

Before Carol could get another word out, another voice called to them, and she wished she had stayed at home in bed. She didn't want to try and tolerate the situation unfolding around her, and she knew would have to try. She always had to try, but God was she getting so very fucking tired of it.

"What's going on?" Tobin looked from a very pissed off Carol to Morgan who appeared to be trying to calm her down. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, it's fine," Carol tightly ground out. "Morgan was just going home."

"If you need to—"

"I don't want to talk to you!" Carol snapped. "I don't want to talk to anyone. I just want to be left alone. I don't need to be coddled or looked in on every ten minutes! I am a grown woman and being pregnant does not change that. I will survive just fine on my own."

"Maybe you should get some rest," Tobin suggested after a moment.

"What I need," Carol corrected, "is for you both to stop hovering. I get plenty of that from Michonne and Rick and sometimes even Carl. I really don't think that's too much to ask for."

"I just want to make sure the baby's okay." Tobin tried to keep the frustration from his voice. "And right now that means making sure you're okay."

"Well, all you're doing right now is pissing me off." She huffed and tried to reel in her emotions. "Just give me some space. It's all I need. You two make my blood pressure raise, and that's not good for the baby, so stop trying to force your help off on me and stop checking in on me. Michonne will do it in twenty minutes anyway."

"Well, Michonne isn't the father," Tobin snapped. "And I don't know what your and Morgan's conflicts are, but I'm not just going to walk away on command like a dog!"

"You think I'm treating you like a dog?" Carol stared. "All I'm asking for is room to move without hitting you or Morgan or Rick."

"You sure have a funny tone in asking."

"Anyone who's being stalked on a mere walk would have the same tone!"

"Would you mind if it were Daryl?"

"What?"

"Would you mind if it were Daryl coming over to pester you?" he pointedly repeated, a bitter edge to his words.

She had no idea where that came from, but she knew her reply without even thinking about it. "No, I wouldn't, because Daryl knows me well enough to know I don't need a babysitter. He'd know when to back off." She walked away from them, heading back toward the house.

"Hey!" Tobin tried to go after her, but Morgan grabbed his forearm. "What are you doing?"

"Let her go."

"This doesn't concern you. I need to talk to her."

"No, you don't want to talk to her right now, and you shouldn't as pissed as you are." Morgan locked eyes with him. "Let her be alone."

Tobin watched Carol quickly walk back toward her house, Morgan loosened his grip on him, and he sighed. Morgan was right. He wasn't angry with Carol. He didn't need to talk to her right now. It wouldn't do their already crumbled relationship any good. He had to work out his irrational envy over Daryl before he brought up that subject again.

––

Carol opened her bedroom door, finding Michonne on her bed, and she didn't blink. She silently sat down beside her and rested her hands in her lap. They remained there mutely for a couple minutes, Michonne didn't demand to know why she'd lied or wasn't in the house, and Carol was grateful. She forgot how much she missed not being asked to explain her actions, missed being invisible, but like all things, it lost its perks swiftly.

"Here." She set a basket on the bed between them. "It's yarn and some needles. If you ever get bored, or just don't feel like going out...maybe you can make me a sweater."

Carol peered at her, not expecting this turn of events. "A sweater?"

"Can you make a hat? I'd like a beanie for the winter."

Carol almost smiled. "Maybe."

"There's not much there, but Rick might find more." She slid off the bed. "Either way, it's something to mess with."

She nodded. "Thank you." She didn't just mean for the yarn, and she knew Michonne knew that.

"You're welcome." She reached for the doorknob. "I'll be busy for the rest of the day, so make sure you eat and make dinner, because Carl isn't that good of a cook."

"I will."

Michonne nodded and walked out without another word, and Carol smiled, setting a hand on the basket and fingering the soft yarn. She'd knitted a blanket for Sophia when she was a baby. She wasn't sure if she'd make one for this baby, but she had the supplies to at least give it a shot now.

Blinking back tears at the thought of her little girl, Carol covered her face with her hands, listening to the sounds of the utterly empty house. She was alone. For the first time since she'd spoken to Rick at the gate, she was truly alone.

"Huh."


	12. Day Of The Appointment

"I don't think we'll find anything more out here," Glenn stated to Rick and Daryl on day two of their outing. "We need to go further out, plan a trip like Tara and Heath."

Daryl sat on the hood of the car Glenn had found and would be using to drive back to Alexandria in. "Yeah, sounds like a good idea."

"We'll get back and organize this run." Rick shifted his weight. "I'm not goin', but are either of you?"

"No." Daryl rested his feet on the bumper. "I'll check a few places Michonne and I have already been. We left some stuff behind Eugene might be able to use."

"Glenn?" Rick swept his gaze over to him.

"Maybe. I don't know yet. It depends on how long it'll take, where we're going." He shrugged his shoulders. "But maybe. I'll have to...talk to Maggie, but it's for the good of the group. We can't afford to be selfish."

"It ain't selfish," Daryl remarked. "We got plenty of people, and this run will be good for all of us, but stayin' behind ain't at all selfish."

"Maybe not, but I'm good at this at runs. I'm good at getting in and out." He offered a smile so his next comment wouldn't sound hateful, because he didn't mean for it to. "You can stay with Michonne and Judith, and Daryl can be there for Carol, but I'm going."

"We'll see who volunteers," Rick said after a beat, "take it from there. For now, let's just get back there in one piece."

Daryl hopped off the car and ambled toward the truck. "I'll ride in the rear since I got so much in the back. Don't want any loose items to fly off and cause an accident."

Rick nodded. "I'll lead then."

"Sounds good." Glenn opened the car door and slipped inside, starting the engine.

Rick and Daryl exchanged a glance before doing the same, Rick pulled out in front with Glenn in the middle and Daryl taking up the rear, and the air in the individual cars was a blessing. They had time for privacy and their emotions to show themselves with being asked what's wrong, and they would need this time to reflect on the trip back home. For Glenn that meant back to Maggie, for Rick that mean back to Michonne and his kids—and of course running the town—and home for Daryl meant getting back to Carol and her baby.

– – –

Carol walked through the vacant house in the far aside of town, her boots echoing off the walls, and she smiled at the sound of it. Solitude. Isolation. It wasn't much, given that right outside was an entire town of people she would have to kill for, have to protect when the next big threat came, but it might be enough to work through the mess knotted up inside of her.

There was a pile of mattresses in the living room, all still neatly wrapped and filing the room corner to corner. A few lamps were on the counters in the kitchen, the drawers filled with items like silverware and cooking utensils. It was like the house of spare items, and somehow it was cozy.

She climbed the stairs to find the second floor untouched, a fine layer of dust on the surfaces, and she walked over to the window, peering out to see no one walking toward the house. She could barely hear the kids. It was peaceful, an escape, for when her worries—her demons—grew too loud.

She reached down to grasp the hilt of her knife, her fingers instead meeting her stomach, and she looked down. For a second there, she'd nearly forgot there was even a baby in there. It didn't seem real, to be honest. She was well into her forties, and it was supposed to be difficult to get pregnant. It wasn't supposed to just happen after one time, and it wasn't supposed to feel like punishment. It wasn't supposed to be like this at all.

It should be Maggie, not her. They all knew that—thought that. She didn't blame them, because it was in her mind and in her heart as well. She shouldn't be the one who was pregnant, who was being looked in on, who was being smothered by affection. It shouldn't be her who was going to see Harlan in a couple weeks. It shouldn't be her. She didn't want this. She didn't ask for this. She didn't try for this. She wasn't with the man she loved wholeheartedly when this child was conceived. She wasn't trying to start and preserve the future. She was just trying to escape, and it backfired in the worst possible way.

She thought back to her pregnancy with Sophia, her heart contracting, and she didn't know how she was going to do this. Frankly she still wanted to leave Alexandria, leave the people she loved and the people she would rather die than let any harm befall them. It wasn't an option at the moment. If she lost the child, or perhaps once the kid was born, maybe she could then. Honestly, Glenn and Maggie would make better parents than her. She had failed in every form, so why not entrust this child to them? Or to Tobin. Or perhaps even Daryl.

She smiled at the thought of Daryl trying to raise this child, changing diapers and reading stories to the kid, trying and pleading and willing this baby to go sleep. She could see him teaching him or her how to hunt, how to track, how to survive, and it warmed her heart. He would be a good father. The way he was with Judith when Beth and her were preoccupied and he thought no one was watching was amazing. It made her love him even more. He was such a good man, an honorable man, and he would do right by this child, his blood or not. It was her blood that ran through its veins, and he would sell his soul to the devil himself to protect this baby. She knew that without a doubt. She didn't need the pills or his word. She just knew. He would do the same for Judith, for Carl, for Maggie and Glenn's next child. He was simply that kind of man.

Soon she would know if she made out of danger, if the baby made it out of danger for the time being. She was scared to know either way. She had to work through it, work through what happened with the girls, and maybe—if it all worked out—just maybe she could be a mother to this little child.

– – –

Maggie was on the wall when Rick, Glenn and Daryl rolled back into town a few days later, Sasha pulled the gate for them, and they drove inside. Daryl drove around to the empty houses to put away the supplies he and Rick had gotten, knowing Maggie had to have seen them, and Glenn parked behind Rick. They got some help unloading what few supplies they had, and Rick sent out word for a meeting tonight in the church. They had a run to plan, and they needed volunteers.

Daryl closed the door behind him and saw Carol on the porch to the house next door. He hadn't seen her on his way in, and he walked over to her.

She lifted her head. "You're back."

"Yeah." He sat beside her. "What're you doin' out there?"

"I'm just getting some air." She pulled her legs in, resting her arms in her lap. "And you?"

"Had to unload some stuff." He shrugged a shoulder.

"Did you find what Eugene needed?"

"Nah, not yet, but we're plannin' a run. Rick and I thought it'd be best to wait till Tara and Heath get back, see what they found, if maybe what we need is there, but...they could get delayed. Who knows what's out there where they were goin'?" He picked at his thumbnail. "He's callin' a meetin' tonight, gonna see who's willin' to go out there for however long it takes."

"Are you going?"

"Nah. I got...things to do here."

"Daryl, I don't need a babysitter. You should go. You're good with this type of thing. So is Glenn." She inhaled. "You don't need to stay behind for my sake."

"Well, I ain't."

She smiled a little. "Really? Then what are the things you need to do here?"

He was quiet for a moment, she chuckled mirthlessly, and he pursed his lips. "I'm gonna be here for when you go see Harlan next. I want to be there for you and the baby, no matter what happens." He peeked at her face. "And with some of our people out there, it's best we have a strong front here. Spencer and Carl can't do it all."

"There's Gabriel and Enid and...the class Rosita taught. Or is teaching."

He snorted. "Yeah, they can take on walkers, but people? Like the people that took you and Maggie?" He shook his head. "I need to be here in case they come back. I mean, I blew a lot of 'em up, and you and Maggie took out a handful too. They ain't gonna be comin' here in peace."

"All right." She stood up and began to walk away, pausing when he didn't follow. "You coming?"

He shook his head. "I'll be along in a minute."

She nodded and continued on her path back to the house to prepare for the church meeting, Daryl observed her, and he chewed on his bottom lip. He had time for his thoughts while they were out, but he needed to talk to someone. He couldn't talk to Carol, not yet, but he did need someone he could...unload on. He didn't know who that sorry sack would be, but he'd find out soon when he couldn't keep his thoughts to himself.

––

The meeting went well enough. Glenn and Spencer were going to lead the run along with two others, Glenn was going to use the car he'd found while out with Rick and Daryl, and Spencer and the boys would use two other cars. They whipped a map and got to work once the meeting was adjourned, leaving Maggie and Rosita to linger and question why those two had taken the lead.

The group headed out in the morning, Aaron decided to join them, and they said their goodbyes. Maggie and Glenn shared an awkward hug, Eric kissed Aaron goodbye, and Spencer studied the ground as they did so. They headed out bright and early, and they would return in two weeks time.

Maggie was nervous about Glenn doing this, but it was for the good of the group. She was confident he'd return to them, with Aaron and Spencer. She didn't doubt that at all. She didn't like that he'd be gone for so long, and the lack of contact would test her nerves, but after all they'd been through, all she'd been through just this past week, she was sure she'd be fine. She would persevere. She only hoped the what ifs weren't too cruel.

– – –

The morning of Tara and Heath's return came, Denise and Enid with a few helping hands waited by the gate when they honked, and they drove in with a fully loaded truck. Carol wasn't allowed to lend them a hand, and Maggie was instructing people on where to take the various items with Michonne's help. Daryl and Abe did a lot of heaving lifting along with Tobin and the construction crew. They had gotten quite lucky on their trip, though from the cuts and bruises, it wasn't an easy venture.

Enid worked on the gash on Heath's arm, using her training for the first time, and she was excited. She thought she might have to stitch it up, but she didn't know for sure. She hadn't learned how to do that. She didn't want to test it out on Heath. It could prove to be pretty brutal and painful.

"So, you're training her?" Tara nodded her head to Enid who was wholly focused on cleaning Heath's injury.

"I'm teaching her." Denise washed dirt off Tara's bloody knuckles. "She's a quick study, dedicated."

"I'm a little surprised she's here. I've never seen her take any interest in medical crap."

Denise laughed at that. "Yeah, me neither, but it's a smart move. If anything were to happen to me...we need to be prepared."

"Don't talk like that."

"It's a possibility." She released her fingers and blew on them lightly. "How are you?"

"I'm exhausted. I haven't slept well since before we left." She shook her head and gulped. "When you're out there like that...you can't sleep. The fear keeps you...from really drifting off, people on guard or not. You're tense and aware."

Denise smiled. "Well, I'm glad you made it back in one piece."

"Me too." She leaned down and kissed her briefly. "So, where'd that spear come from?"

Denise grinned. "It was a gift from Hilltop. I used it to take out some walkers with Carol and Michonne."

"You—you took on walkers? At Hilltop?"

"Yeah. It was...intense, but we kicked ass." Her grin lost its edge as the other events of Hilltop came pouring back, and she swallowed. "I—I need to tell you something."

"What is it?" The frown was in her voice.

"Maggie lost the baby."

"What?" An airy murmur escaped through her lips. "God, Maggie... Shit, and Glenn. God." She couldn't believe it. She knew something had gone down since the last time they were here, but she hadn't even thought to consider that was it. She knew how much that baby meant to Maggie and Glenn, how much it meant to the group, and she couldn't believe it was gone. The last time she saw Maggie, she was perfectly fine. She was healthy and happy, and Harlan had said the baby was healthy too. It was the right size and everything for how far along she was, so why...was the baby gone? What the hell happened while she and Heath were away?

It was like Noah all over again. She thought things were fine, everyone was all right, but the reality set in and reminded her she had been out just long enough for death to claim someone she loved, or someone she would have grown to love. She had lost so much, and adding Noah to that list had ached, and now adding the unborn baby of a man who had saved her life in more ways than he can ever know and of a woman who was like a sister to her felt like dagger going down her stomach. She couldn't imagine how they were coping with this. She'd seen how messed up Maggie had been after she lost her little sister, and she could assume how bad it'd been after Hershel had died. She had been there that day, witnessed what Maggie witnessed, and she remembered losing her own dad, not to mention she'd seen Glenn's reaction to the news of Hershel's death. Fuck.

Denise watched the emotions and thoughts play out in her girlfriend's coffee-colored eyes, and she returned to carefully wrapping her fingers.

"How's Maggie been taking it?" she whispered.

"Not well. She barely eats, and she cries herself to sleep." She shook her head. "It's been weeks, and she still cries herself to sleep. It's understandable. I only wish she'd talk to someone."

"She isn't talking to Glenn?"

"They haven't been alone together since we came back from Hilltop. Glenn feels guilty for not doing more to protect Maggie and the baby, and Maggie doesn't know how to act around Glenn, because she blames herself for losing their baby."

"What else have I missed?" She almost didn't want to know.

"Glenn and Spencer and Aaron left for a two week run to find supplies to begin making bullets." She explained the factory Eugene and Abraham had found, and Tara nodded. "And Carol's pregnant."

"Are you serious?" Tara exclaimed. "Carol? Small, silver-haired Carol?"

Denise almost smiled. "Yes, that Carol."

"How? I mean I know how, but...how? And why?"

"It wasn't intentional."

"Who's the father?"

"Tobin."

Her nose scrunched. "Really?" She nodded. "Okay then. How far along is she?"

"She's not sure. She's going to Hilltop soon to see Harlan again and get an accurate timeline on her pregnancy."

Tara dragged her free hand down her face. "I need to go to bed. I need sleep before I can process any of this."

"Try being here the last couple of weeks." She expelled air from her lungs. "I don't think it's going to get any better."

Tara peeked at her and offered with a small smile, "I'm proud of you, you know, for taking on those walkers. I knew you had the guts."

Denise returned her smile. "Then I shouldn't mention how I threw up after my first walker kill?"

She laughed. "Tell me about it."

"Well, it was on my first run..."

Tara's smile widened. "Your first run?"

"Yeah." She lifted her head and smiled at her. "My first run with Daryl and Rosita to get medicine."

"Were you able to get it?"

"We were." She laced her fingers through Tara's and searched her eyes for a moment, forgetting about Enid and Heath, forgetting about the miscarriage and about what could happen with Carol, forgetting about all of the horrible things that have happened with the wall and the walkers and the Andersons. She let herself forget, here, with Tara for a moment, because there was something she needed to say, and she didn't want to wait until it was too late to say it. "I love you."

Tara tightened her grip on Denise's hand. "I love you too." She leaned down and whispered in her ear, because what she had to say weren't something a kid like Enid should overhear.

– – –

Carol woke up, and she knew without even checking the calendar that today was the day. She didn't want to get out of bed, let alone dress and leave for Hilltop. She didn't want to find out if this was all really real. She was still hoping for it to be false, that somehow she had an odd kind of bug, but now she would know. She would really know, and she'd see it. She would see this baby with her own two eyes.

Outside the house, Rick and Daryl were preparing a car for the trip to Hilltop. They didn't need to take the RV since it was just the four of them, though Denise was pushing for the RV to have more room. She wasn't a fan of being cooped up in the backseat with Carol, like she'd been cooped up between Daryl and Rosita. She wanted some space, and Rick thought it'd be best to have the RV when he remembered how Carol's stomach had been the last couple of days.

"It's a good thing you're comin' along," Rick commented to Denise. "I nearly forgot about Carol's stomach and how soft its been the last couple of days."

"It's what I'm here for." She smiled. "I'll bring some tea for the trip. It should help to prevent any vomiting."

"Good idea."

Daryl brought the RV around, Michonne was tempted to tag along with them, but she was needed here with Glenn and Aaron out with their group of five, and Rick and Daryl could handle anything they came across. Carol could hold her own with both her knife and her gun. Even Denise had gotten the hang of using that spear, and she wasn't too bad with a gun. There wasn't much to worry about. They could handle it.

Maggie saw Rick and Daryl talking by the RV, Denise heading back to her and Tara's house, and she knew what today was. She'd known the moment she woke up. It was Carol's first appointment with Harlan. She didn't know how she felt about today. She wasn't as jealous as she thought she'd be. She wasn't aching more than usual. She was just there, looking on as her family tending to family. It was kind of nice.

"I brought applesauce." Enid held a jar and spoon out to her. "I had to fight Judith for it, but it's fresh."

Maggie smiled weakly and accepted both items. "Thanks."

She returned her smile. "It's no problem." She sat down on the porch and spotted the group by the RV. "Oh, that's today, isn't it?"

"Yeah." Maggie lowered herself down beside the young girl. "Carol's about to go see Harlan, see how far along the baby is."

"Are you okay?" Enid studied her thoroughly, licking applesauce off the spoon. "With the appointment? I mean...how do you feel about the appointment?"

"I dunno, to be honest." Maggie twisted the cap off the jar slowly, setting it beside her and stirring the applesauce. "It feels more like a dream than anythin', I guess."

"I'm here, if you want to talk."

Maggie nodded. "I know, sweetie."

By the RV, Daryl loaded a bag of food in case they were delayed or were held up. He didn't want Carol or the kid to go hungry, or him or Rick or Denise, but mostly Carol. She didn't have much of an appetite, but just in case. He wanted to be prepared. He thought over every feasible scenario, and he knew how to handle all of them. And if he didn't, Denise would. She was a doctor, for pity's sake. She could take care of Carol, and he and Rick could take care of walkers and people. He would make sure nothing happened to Carol or the baby or Denise. He knew they could take care of themselves, but he didn't want to leave anything to chance. The odds were never in their favor.

"Where's Carol?" Rick looked over at Daryl as he checked the pressure on the RV's tires.

"I don't know. She might still be in bed." He straightened. "Didn't you wake her up?"

"No, I figured she'd get up on her own."

"I'll go get her."

"No, she'll be down. I don't want to rush her." He still had to wait on Denise to prepare the tea for Carol's morning sickness, and he didn't mind the wait. It gave him time to figure out what they might be forgetting.

"It's pretty early." Daryl checked the back tire. "Sure you wanna head out this early?"

"Yeah, the sooner we leave, the sooner we'll...get a grasp on the situation." He adjusted his watch. "If you're tired, there is a bed in the back."

"I'm good." He crossed his arms over his chest.

"Well, all right then."

Half an hour later Denise and Tara walked over to the RV, Daryl was sitting inside, picking at the tip of one of his bolts, and Rick was sitting on the steps, waiting for Carol. He'd gotten word from Michonne that she was finishing breakfast. He knew this was tough for her, so he would give her a few more minutes. Besides they had been held up by Denise too, so it wasn't all Carol.

"You comin' with us?" Rick asked Tara.

"Nah." She smiled at Denise. "I just came to walk her out, and I thought I'd stop by Maggie's."

He nodded and moved off the steps. "Keep an eye on her for us, all right? You...you mean a lot to her, and you haven't been in her face the past couple weeks, so just make sure she's all right."

"I will." Tara pulled Denise aside to say goodbye privately.

On the porch Carol was speaking to Michonne, Tobin approached them, and Carol hoped he didn't ask to come along again. She really didn't want to do this today, didn't want to feel what she knew she'd feel, and she didn't want him there on top of it all. She knew he had a right to be here, and she did want him there eventually. Well, not want, but it was his child too, so her wants weren't entirely important. Today she hoped they were, otherwise she wasn't going. It was petulant, she knew, but she didn't want anyone there the first sonogram. She knew she'd be a mess, and she didn't want anyone there but Harlan. He was used to it, after all. It was his job before the world fell apart.

"Have a safe trip." Michonne set a hand on Carol's arm and strolled off to speak with Rick.

"I'm sorry. I hope I didn't chase her off." Tobin stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"You didn't."

"Good to know." He cleared his throat. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm tired. I haven't been sleeping well." She didn't explain any further. "And you?"

"I'm okay." His brows met, and he released a rough and curt sigh. "I'm sorry about what I said to you. I know it's probably been too long for an apology, but I wanted you to know I'm sorry. I was...having a bad day, and I shouldn't have said that."

"It didn't bother me enough for you to apologize." She met his eyes. "Don't worry about it. I've been asked worse."

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

"It's nothing." She shrugged, brushing it away. "And I'm sorry for being so...short with you. I just need space every now and then."

"All right." He pulled one hand out. "Are you nervous about today?"

"No. I've done this before. Well, not quite like this." She glanced at the RV and smiled a little. "I had my husband to drive me to my appointment, and the biggest worry was traffic, not walkers and people who want to kill us."

"It's not the best world to raise a baby in," he agreed, "but we'll do the best we can, won't we?"

She saw Michonne part with Rick and stepped back. "I should go. They've waited on me long enough. We'll talk more when I get back."

He followed her gaze to the RV, Tara and Michonne talked as they began their shifts; Denise climbed inside, and Daryl climbed out after her, gesturing with a bolt. Rick nodded, not speaking a word to him, and Daryl hurried off toward the armory. He blinked and frowned at the sight of Daryl skirting through town, and he noticed Carol didn't seen surprised to see him.

"Daryl's going with you?"

She chuckled softly, and it wasn't a happy sound, though it wasn't bitter or empty. It was a laugh mixed with two emotions he couldn't differentiate. "He didn't give me any choice." She cast a look at Tobin to say goodbye and walked over to the RV.

"You all right?" Rick noted she was paler than normally was.

"I'm as well as can be expected."

"If you need a break while we're on the road, let us know."

"I will."

Daryl returned with another set of bolts, Carol entered the RV, and Rick closed the door behind him. He got behind the wheel, Daryl slid into the passenger seat, and Denise and Carol spoke softly in the back. Abraham opened the gate for them, Rick pulled out, and their trip to Hilltop thus began.

– – –

Carol had lied down after having a cup of Denise's tea, Denise was working on a lesson plan for Enid, and Rick and Daryl were listening to some pretty terrible tunes. Denise had blocked it out, and Carol had the door closed—thankfully the music couldn't breach the room.

Daryl moved to the couch with Denise when Rick started singing to him, and Rick howled with laughter, using the new route to Hilltop, and Daryl glared daggers at the back of Rick's seat as he continued to jam out.

"Does he ever stop?" Denise blinked rapidly at Rick's attempt to hit a high note, and Daryl snorted. "Is that a no?"

He nodded. "And trust me, you don't ever get used to it."

"Great." She uncapped a highlighter and returned to her lesson plans, trying to block this song out.

Daryl cringed at Rick's voice and peered at the door that lead to the bedroom, lead to where Carol was. He rose up off the couch and stumbled back toward the door, partly to check in on her, but mostly to escape Rick and his singing. He knew he was only doing it to piss Daryl off and maybe to give Denise a headache. He was flawlessly accomplishing this goal. They might not let him ride back to Alexandria with them. He might just have to walk his singing ass back.

He closed the door behind him, Carol looked over her shoulder to see who had come back there, and he gave her a small smile. She rolled onto her back and sat up, and he sat down in the chair beside the bed, trying to assure her that she didn't have to move.

"It's fine, Daryl. I wasn't sleeping anyway." She set her feet on the floor. "Why are you back here? And don't lie and say it's to check on me. I think I heard Rick singing."

He chuckled. "I can't take it anymore. It's drivin' me up a wall."

"From the small bit I heard, I don't blame you for running."

He ran his eyes over her and leaned toward her to ask, "That tea help you any?"

"A little."

"That's good."

She moved so that her back was against the wall of the RV, and she crossed her legs, resting her hands in her lap. "How close are we?"

"About an hour away."

"Good." She closed her eyes. "I want to get this over with."

He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment then dared, "You scared?"

"On every level," she replied without opening her eyes. "I can feel it in the air I inhale and exhale, in my fingertips, in my eyelashes." A mirthless laugh escaped through her lips, and her eyes opened, a shine to them. "I don't think I've been this scared since Sophia...ran away crying from those walkers."

He lowered his eyes. "It'll be okay."

"I don't know if that's true." She set a hand on her stomach. "It's not like I can do genetic testing, or CVS, or amniocentesis. I know what the baby will get from me and my side of the family, but Tobin? I doubt he knows."

"You didn't ask him about it?"

"No. He might not even know anything. It's not exactly dinner conversation."

"I'm sure the worst thing that'll happen is the kid'll be a giant."

She smiled feebly. "Tobin's not that tall."

"He's a fuckin' tree."

She giggled at the tone in his voice, Daryl smiled at the sound of an authentic Carol laugh, and she met his eyes. "So," her voice was suddenly low and solemn, no hint of her earlier laughter there, "how do you feel about this?"

He peeked at her. "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean, Daryl. How do you feel about the baby? About...my pregnancy?" She searched is guarded blue eyes. "You were so angry before, and we never talked about it. Are you still angry?"

He shook his head. "No, I'm not angry anymore."

"Honestly?"

"Yeah, honestly." He set his elbows on his thighs. "I'm not too sure how I feel about it either. I know I ain't exactly thrilled, but I'm not pissed or anythin'."

"I'm glad." She released the breath she didn't know she'd been holding. "You were so livid... I wasn't sure you'd ever...talk to me again."

"'Course I'd talked to you." His voice was hushed, soft, and it felt more like a caress. "You're...my best friend."

"Rick's your best friend," she corrected then saw perhaps she was wrong. "Isn't he?"

"No, Rick's like blood and I respected him, but you're my best friend. You're the closest person to me." The tips of his ears began to reddened, luckily his hair was long enough to cover them, and he ducked his head when they'd held eye contact for so long he began to blush. "That's why I'm here. I want to keep you safe—you and the baby."

She swallowed hard, his words crushing her heart despite the affectionate that blossomed there from his words as well. She didn't say anything in return, simply cast her eyes to the door and tried to keep the tears from her eyes. She knew Daryl and she were close, but to have him put it into words right there beside her was too much. Too close. Too fresh. She longed to be able to reciprocate his feelings, his words, but other words would follow, and she couldn't afford to let that happen. People who were close to her...weren't the luckiest, and perhaps some distance between them would be a good thing.

"If you need anythin'," Daryl said by the door, about to exit the room, "lemme know, all right?"

She exhaled once he was out of the room, and she pulled her legs in, resting her head in her lap. She didn't know how she was going to do this. She wanted to talk to him about the girls yet at the same time her tongue grew fat and the words choked her. She wanted to open up and work through the torment and the regret of what happened in that damned pecan grove, but she saw how it practically killed Tyreese. He didn't even pull the trigger, simply was nearby, and it ate him alive. She couldn't do that to Daryl. She couldn't let this weight fall on his chest and crush him as she knew it would. Daryl's emotions ran deeper than any ocean, and while he tried to hide that fact, she knew. She knew him, and she couldn't let him bear this burden. She could barely hold herself up against it, so there was no chance in hell she'd try and force Daryl to.

She dropped a hand down to her stomach. Se had to keep herself afloat for this baby. She couldn't run. She couldn't hide. She couldn't do all the things she was doing before as a way to punish herself. She knew the list of people who would blow a gasket if she even lit a cigarette would be endless, and she would have to endure hours of lectures. She wasn't fond of smoking anyway. It was just...self dealt punishment, barely any different from Rick banishing her from the prison. She had to be healthy and careful. Even if she didn't survive labor, she would give this baby its best chance, and perhaps if she were to pass, Daryl and Rick and Maggie and Michonne could raise and protect this child in a way she couldn't with all three of hers before.

––

They arrived at Hilltop in the late afternoon according to Daryl, Harlan was busy with another patient, so they waited in and around the RV. Carol was still in the back, picking at the pillowcase as she waited for them to tell her Harlan was ready to see her. Denise was with the blacksmith, learning how to keep her spear sharp and sturdy, and the boys were by the front of the RV, watching the people of Hilltop do their duties.

There was a certain taste in the air, one of desperate hope and fear, and Rick suspected they were the ones giving it off. They last time they were here with a pregnant woman it had ended disastrously, and no one wanted to relive that day, hear those cries and go home feeling more empty than the hollowest of trees at the loss of another innocent unborn life.

Daryl scuffed up the dirt with his boots, placing his hands under his armpits, and he glanced at Rick a couple of times.

"What is it?" Rick was crouched down, checking out the damage of his boots and wondering how long they'd last, and he'd felt Daryl's eyes on him.

"Nothin'."

"Now, that's a lie." He stood up and locked eyes with the man he viewed as his brother. "It's Carol and the baby, isn't it?"

"Yeah." He bowed his head and picked at his thumbnail. "Could I ask you somethin'?"

"I don't know if I can give you the answer you want...or need...but go right ahead." He squinted at the sun in his eyes.

"I'm not really happy she's pregnant," he disclosed. "I'm not angry either, just...confused and pissed—fuckin' pissed—at Tobin."

Rick studied the man beside him and rested his hand on his pistol, nodding his head to the side. "Do you know why you're pissed at him?"

"Yeah. I blame him." He stole another peek at Rick to try and read his reaction. He knew how it sounded, and he wanted to explain himself, but he hoped Rick just got it. He didn't want to say it aloud. He felt petty and petulant for even feeling this way, but to put it into words? He felt like a goddamn teenager.

"You blame him for Carol gettin' pregnant?"

He nodded silently, chewing on his bottom lip.

"It wasn't exactly a one person job." He sounded amused, and he tried not to, but damn it to hell, he couldn't. "And if it was, Carol would have taken care of Tobin herself."

Daryl frowned for a moment, his mind blocking out why it could have been a one person job, and he knew what Rick meant. Hell, if that were the case, he would have gutted Tobin like a pig. There wouldn't be a trace of him left. The thought of anyone doing anything like that to Carol caused his blood to boil, and he was instantly miffed. It was just a scenario, but his heart raced with fury, his blood pumping faster, and his breathing escalated. He was ready for a fight that wasn't going to happen.

Rick shook his head to shake off the feeling that last statement gave him. "Why do you only blame him?"

"I just...feel more inclined to blame that asshole than I am to blame both of them, or...her." A defeated huff escaped through his lips. "Go ahead and say it. I'm a child."

Rick chuckled. "You're not a child for feelin' that way. Hell, I felt the same way when I figured out what happened between Lori and Shane. I blamed him more than I could ever blame her. She was my wife, the woman I loved, the mother of my child, and..." Rick dropped off at that and narrowed his eyes. "Daryl?"

"Hmm?"

"Is...uh, is there more to this than just blamin' Tobin for getting Carol pregnant?"

"What do you mean?"

Rick could see he was being earnest, and he shook his head, wondering if he was right and Daryl was oblivious—not too outlandish an idea, as Daryl wasn't one to be very connected to those types of emotions—or if Daryl was just oddly possessive. Or Daryl could just hate Tobin for something that might have happened since they arrived in Alexandria. Daryl wasn't the type to have bad blood with someone without a good reason, so whatever that reason was...known to Daryl or not, it was presenting itself now in full force.

Rick opened his mouth to explain when he saw Harlan approaching, and he gave a nod to the man. "Afternoon."

Harlan smiled a bit. "How is she today?"

"A little queasy," Daryl answered. "Denise made her some ginger tea. She's in the back right now, restin'."

He nodded. "That's good." He caught their frowns. "That she's resting, I mean, not that she's feeling sick."

"Right." Daryl pushed off the RV. "I'll go get her."

"No need." Carol walked around the RV and into their sights. "I'm here."

Harlan greeted her with a smile, she returned it out of habit, and they waked back to his office together. Daryl wanted to go with them, wanted to see the baby with his own eyes, but he would respect Carol's decision to go in there alone. Everything would be okay, and he could speak to Harlan when their appointment was over. He had some questions, and he hoped he didn't mind answering them.

Rick walked off to find Denise, Daryl's eyes were glued to Harlan and Carol's backs that grew smaller and smaller until they disappeared into his office, and he lowered his gaze. He hoped the kid was all right, for its sake and for Carol's.

In Harlan's office, Carol lied back, answering the questions he was asking. She felt silly answering some, recounting the last time she had done this, and she nearly laughed in spite of herself. She had been so thrilled to be pregnant with Sophia. She loved every moment of it, and she couldn't wait to hold her in her arms and kiss her and love her. She was equally worried about what Ed would do or say in front of her, but in the end it didn't matter. They were both gone, and they weren't coming back.

"So, this is your second child?" Harlan inquired, adjusting the screen.

"Yeah." She tried to avoid the screen, though Harlan had made that impossible.

"We probably won't be able to hear the heartbeat," he informed her, "but we might be able to see it."

She nodded, not trusting her voice.

He pressed his lips together, squinting at the screen, and for a moment she thought maybe this was all a hoax her body was playing on her. He didn't appear to see anything, and it could have been a false positive it. Home pregnancy tests had a high false positive rate, so that could be it. It wasn't real. She didn't have to stay, and she didn't have to kill anyone else. She didn't have to be strong every second of every day. She could escape and find a way to live through the guilt and the despair alone.

"There it is." He reached over and pointed to the small bean on the screen. "There's your baby, Carol."

She squeezed her eyes shut at those words, tears brimming behind them, and she dared herself to look. She had to see, had to confirm this with her own eyes, and she gulped before slowly, cautiously, daringly cracking open one eye then the other. She found the little bean instantly, and her heart simultaneously swelled and dropped and she shuddered.

There it was. It was right there in black and white, a small little gray thing clinging to life inside of her. It couldn't have been bigger than a pea, and she knew there was a list of fruits that were the same size at the fetus through the weeks, but she didn't remember it. She didn't care to even think on it, because there was the baby right before her eyes. Her baby.

Harlan smiled softly at the tears in her eyes and gave her a moment alone to view her child. He needed to have a word with Denise as it were, and now was a good time. He knew he needed a moment, given the last woman he examined in this room.

Once alone in the room, she pushed herself up and touched the screen, her finger over the little blimp that was her baby. She couldn't help the tears that rolled down her cheeks as her thin veil of hopeless desperation that this was all a hoax came crashing down around her, and she realized how she wasn't sad at all in this moment. She wasn't mourning her lost delusions. She wasn't crying for what was to come. She was crying for the life she'd accidentally made, a life her heart had already grown to love, a life she knew she couldn't bare to lose, and she knew there was no way in the world she was going to be able to leave this child. She would have to be dragged and beaten and killed, and even then she would find some way to be close to this baby, because it was hers. She would protect it like she hadn't been able to protect Sophia or Mika or Lizzie. She would do whatever she had to to ensure its future, and should she not survive, she would ensure her family—ensure Daryl—knew what to do and how to tend to this—her—baby.

––

Daryl was bombarding Harlan with question after question, Denise was in the RV with a few books Harlan had lent her, and Rick had received a crate of food from one of the woman who had heard about Carol's pregnancy. He wasn't sure what to do with it or how to thank them, but he was grateful. He liked how these two communities were coming together, helping each other out, and he was appreciative.

Carol meandered back to the RV, her eyes rimmed with red and puffy, and she hugged herself tightly. She silently stepped up inside the RV without speaking to Rick or Daryl, and they were worried for a moment something had gone wrong, but upon further investigation—here meaning following her into the RV—they found Denise and Carol looking over the sonogram together.

"It's like...the size of my fingertip." Denise read the data along the side of the sonogram, trying to find out how big it was.

"Did he figure out how far along you were?" Rick moved to take the wheel, observing the woman from the front seat.

"He said six weeks and five days." She hadn't taken her eyes off the little dot on the sonogram.

"It's so surreal." Denise looked at Carol's stomach. "I've never known any pregnant women, only Maggie, so...it's still weird how this is inside of you."

Carol smiled a little. "It was weird for me the first time with Sophia, but this time shouldn't feel like that."

Rick and Daryl's hearts both skipped a beat at the mention of the little girl the two felt they'd failed, Denise handed the sonogram back, and Denise moved to sit by Rick. Daryl didn't mind. He was trying to ask to see the sonogram as Carol hadn't offered, and he sat across from her silently, not sure if he should ask or not. It wasn't his kid, though she had shown Denise.

Carol lifted her gaze from the sonogram once the RV roared to life, her eyes falling on Daryl, who was eyeing the sonogram. She stood up and sat beside him, holding it out without a word spoken, and he gently took it from her. He scanned the black and white image, seeing the little dot Denise was talking about, and he remembered the last one he held. He didn't want the same results.

"Are you okay?" Carol asked at the drop in color from his face.

"Yeah." He tried to smile, but he wasn't fooling anyone. "I—it's real small, like Denise said."

"It won't always be," she assured him. If they were lucky.

"Yeah, I remember Lori." He saw her eyes shift from a double meaning he hadn't intended to give. "So, how soon can you know the sex?" he changed the subject.

"Around the fourth or fifth month. Why? Are you planning on painting a room pink or blue?"

"Nah, just curious."

Carol nodded. "I'm going to go lie down. I'm a little tired." She minded her footing as she walked to the back room and closed the door. She knew she wouldn't get much—or any—sleep, but it was worth a shot. She was tired—from crying, from worrying, from hoping against hope. She was wiped emotionally, and the baby was working on wiping her physically. Oh, well, she still needed to figure out how she was going to talk to Tobin when they returned to Alexandria, and she could think on that while she couldn't sleep.

– – –

Carol sought out Tobin the moment they returned to Alexandria, Rick informed Michonne on how it went and presented her with the basket for Carol, and Denise and Daryl headed to the clinic. He wasn't going there, but it was on the way to where he was going, so he walked with her.

Tobin was sitting on his porch, wrapping his hand, and she wondered for a moment what had happened. He did work construction, so it likely happened while he was working his shift. He was a clumsy man, and he probably shouldn't be left alone with tools.

"Hey."

He smiled a little at her, standing up. "You're back."

"Yeah." She reached out and assisted him with his hand, sitting with him and tenderly adjusting the wrapping. "What happened to you?"

"We were moving beams, and I cut my hand pretty bad." He winced at how tight she'd wrapped it, but that was how it was meant to be used. "Thanks."

She dropped her hands to her lap. "So...I have something for you."

"Yeah?" He watched her dig something out of her pocket, and he scooted closer to see what it was. "Is that...?"

"It's the baby." She held it out to him. "You can keep this. I had Harlan make a few copies."

He grasped the photo and ran his eyes over it. "Is...that it?"

"Yeah." She pointed it out just in case they weren't talking about the same thing. "It's six weeks, five days."

"That's a little over a month, right?"

"Yeah." She studied his face and how it softened, and she felt an acute pang spreading inside her heart. She'd never seen that reaction from the father before. Ed hadn't been too thrilled with her pregnancy. He didn't care about the appointments and all of that, but Tobin appeared to care. He mentioned wanting to come on the next one, and his eyes right now...how they clouded with tears...told her he was in this. One hundred and ten percent. There would be no beating him off with a stick. He wanted to be the father to their child. A decent father, one who loved this child, who joked with this child, who cared and looked at this child like a father should.

"You, uh—said could I keep this?" He tried to keep the emotions building up inside from his voice.

"Yes."

He nodded. "Thank you."

"You don't need to thank me." She rose up and off the steps. "Have a good night, Tobin."

"You too." His eyes moved to her stomach. "Get some sleep, okay?"

She nodded and walked off, knowing there was more they should talk about, but it could be left for tomorrow. Right now she just wanted some time to herself. Tobin wasn't the only one to get emotional over the sonogram.

Carol found herself at the abandoned house, and she lowered herself down so that her back was against the firm door. She dug out the other picture she'd gotten from Harlan and gazed at it in the moonlight. She had only held a few of these in her hands in her entire life, and it was always the same rush of maternal feelings. This time, however, there was a bit of trepidation mixed in, and she knew why. With what happened with Lori, what happened with Sophia, with Mika and Lizzie and nearly Judith at the prison, it was no surprise.

She missed Lori. Every passing moment she missed her so much. They shared so many war stories and laughs on the road. She and Lori had grown rather close through her pregnancy and being the only two older women in the group. They could relate to certain things, and they bonded. She was like a sister Carol never had—and a friend she'd never had as Ed limited her contact with other people. She dearly wished she could have been with her in the end, just to hold her hand, to be there. She knew it wouldn't have changed anything, but it might change how she felt about losing Lori. She didn't know if that was true or not, but a small part of her wondered. It would likely always be there.

She set a hand on her stomach, the sonogram smooth against the cloth, and she recalled her first and what she always thought would be her last pregnancy. She pulled her legs in, swallowing the thickness in her throat. She dropped her head to her hand and tried to keep the tears from flooding her eyes, but it was ineffective. She inhaled deeply, mutely, and she buried her face in her hands, not entirely sure what the source behind the tears was, but they couldn't be stopped.

– – –

On the other side of the door Carol leaned against was Daryl. He'd escaped to the empty house for a moment's peace. He knew Michonne would be all over Carol once she got back from seeing Tobin, and he didn't want to be there to hear all about how Tobin felt about the baby and the sonogram—if she asked. He'd just chill out here until dinner was fixed then he'd head back and hope they were now at passing around the sonogram like it was gold or something.

He rubbed a finger over the little blimp on the sonogram he'd gotten from Carol. She hadn't asked for it back before she lied down, and she didn't ask once they were back in town, so he kept it. He'd return it first thing, but he wanted to keep it for tonight. It was weird, but he liked having proof of her kid. It was the future, and he was holding a picture of it. A little piece of Carol that would always be here. Well, if it all worked out.

He felt a strange stirring in his chest at the sight of this little fetus, and it wasn't like what he felt looking at Glenn and Maggie's sonogram. He knew this stirring was fueled by what had happened to Glenn and Maggie's baby, but he couldn't place what it was exactly. He'd figure it out eventually, but for now he didn't care. He was just relieved so far the baby was all right. Harlan said it was the right size and all that good stuff. He knew all of it, but he'd just been happy to hear the Doc say it.

He rested his head against the door and closed his eyes. He didn't know what would happen in the days to come, or where he and Carol would be, but he knew he would do his best to always be there. He wanted to be there, for her, for her kid, and he wasn't going to let history repeat itself, if he could help it. He was scared he might just have to let life happen, but he'd tried his best to keep a handle on everything. Although pregnancies and babies weren't something you could get an easy handle on.

He closed his eyes and sighed, the sound echoing in the hall, and he could see the sonogram without even looking at it. He wasn't sure what his emotions were, but he was happy, and he was there for her, whatever she or the baby needed. He had a feeling he might regret that, as she may send him out for weird food she might crave, but what the hell? It wasn't like he had anything else to do.


	13. Tempers and Envy

"I brought you some breakfast."

"Again? You really don't need to do this." Maggie set her pen down. "I appreciate it, but I am able to get my own food."

"I wanted to have breakfast with you is all." Tara set the bowl of oatmeal down in front of her and dropped down into the chair across from Maggie. "Denise is with Daryl, and I didn't want to even hear the talk of a run right now."

A dry smile. "Well, it's good to know I was your first choice."

Tara moistened her lips. "You really were. You're my first choice in running from my girlfriend and Daryl talking about a run."

"Lucky me." Maggie grasped the bowl of oatmeal and placed it to the side, continuing her semi-vague outline for the land they'd have once the expansion was over. "I'm not really hungry right now, but I'll have some later."

"Will you?"

Maggie looked up at her disbelieving tone and a shrugged a shoulder. "To be frank, I'm not hungry. I haven't had much of an appetite in weeks, and oatmeal is probably the last thing I want right now. Well, there's pickles. I don't want any of those ever again."

"How little do you eat every day?"

"I don't know, Tara. I just eat when I feel sick from hunger."

"That's not healthy, Maggie."

"Why does it matter? It's not like getting sick is the first time my body's let me down," she acidically muttered, picking up her pen and returning to her work. "I don't want to talk about the baby or the miscarriage. I know it's all new to you, but it's been my life for the past few weeks. I can't say I'm copin', or even that Glenn is, but I do know that I don't want to talk about it right now. I want to focus on my work—on what Deanna left for us and for the future of this community."

Tara nodded. "I wasn't going to ask you to reopen old wounds. I know how that feels. I just wanted to know how you were, because I've been gone for weeks. I didn't even talk to you much after we got back, because I didn't want to overwhelm you. I didn't want to hover."

Maggie stopped writing. "I just want to finish this, all right? Please?"

"Okay." She collected the bowl of oatmeal and slipped out the door she'd entered through, giving the bowl to Enid who hadn't eaten yet. If her messy hair and pajamas were any hint.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

––

Carol sauntered through Alexandria, feeling that everyone had seen the sonogram, because they were all sneaking looks at her. She didn't know how she felt about the looks or the people seeing the sonogram, but it made her skin crawl to have that much attention on her. She preferred to be invisible, to be a fly on the wall, not the giant in neon they were all acting like she was.

She found some solitude by the vacant houses and sat on the porch, grateful there was no swing and no Morgan to watch her. She knew he meant well, but meaning well...wasn't always good. The road to hell was paved with good intentions, after all. She knew that very well, and he had to know it too, of course. There wasn't a person alive who had endured what her group and Morgan had endured and who didn't know exactly what that meant. If there was, they were clueless like the Alexandrians were before they arrived. Clueless and walker bait.

Her head came to rest against the house at the sound of someone approaching, and she wondered who it was this time. She'd told the kids she hadn't found any ingredients for cookies—lie, she hadn't even looked—and she'd told Rick she'd be back in time for lunch, and there was no way it was near time for lunch. She couldn't read the sun's movement to use it as a clock, but she knew there was no way it was noon.

"Hey."

She blinked and lifted her head. "Eric."

He smiled broadly. "I thought I might find you here." He rested his arm on the railing. "You look good today, not so pale."

"I've been getting some sun." She moved to stand up, but he urged her not to.

"I only came to invite you over for dinner." He tilted his head to the side. "It's a little lonely in the house with Aaron gone, and...well, not all the people here are understanding and accepting. Besides I thought a little pasta would be a nice change."

Carol pulled out a fake smile. "I'd love to—"

"Great! I'll see you after nightfall then." He walked off before she could reject him.

She sighed. "Yeah, great." She should have known he wasn't going to let her finish. He was a pushy kind of person, but entirely with good intentions. He was lonely, and he wanted to cheer her up, but sadly a bowl of pasta wasn't going to put a smile on her face, especially knowing she'd be throwing it up early the next morning. Or late the next day, as "morning" sickness was a joke.

"Carol?"

She looked up at Tobin who offered an apologetic smile as a way of greeting. "What is it?"

"Uh, I let Daryl take my lead today, because he said you wanted to talk about possible hereditary diseases we could give to the baby."

Carol frowned. She didn't remember even seeing Daryl this morning, let alone telling him to send Tobin her way to talk about hereditary diseases. She mentioned it to him while they were on their way to Hilltop, yes, but she didn't ask him to tell Tobin to hunt her down so they could discuss it. She had plans on doing that later, but apparently it would put her mind at ease if she did it now. Daryl couldn't just fess up and admit he wanted to know what possible risks there were to the baby? God, he was such a worrywart.

"Yeah." She motioned for him to sit, and he did, right beside her. "When did he talk to you?"

"About half an hour ago. I figured you'd be out here, but I had to let him know what were doing today. We've split the crew in half to finish up the barn for the horse, and of course the expansion."

She nodded. "How's it coming?"

"Slowly, but it's better to work slow and ensure the work's good. We want these walls to remain standing."

"Yeah," she murmured, "we do."

"So...what do you want to know?" He peered down at her.

"Well, what type of diseases run through your family? Do you know any of them?"

"Do you?"

"Of course, and the worst thing in my family is...mental illness, but given the state of the world, I'm pretty sure anyone can claim that."

He nodded. "I don't know if we can prevent that, but we'll try. Judith's seem happy, and she's still pretty young, I know, but...She has a lot of happy energy. I hope it's a trait she keeps as she gets older."

"Who can say?" She'd seen Carl and Beth and Mika and Lizzie all go through some type of change, some kind of mental illness, though Lizzie's was quite permanent and lethal to anyone around her. Carl was able to overcome, as was Beth. Mika fell into a slump after losing her father, but she was so young, and she was able to bounce back. She was able to smile and laugh again. She was a little angel, and she reminded Carol so of Sophia. They had the same sweet smile.

"You do that a lot," Tobin pointed out.

"What?" She tuned him back in and looked at him. He was smiling, elated, and she didn't know why. "What are you talking about?"

"Your hand." He reached out and tapped it, and her gaze lowered to where her hand rested on her stomach. "I've seen you do that a lot since you got back from Hilltop."

"I suppose it's going to become a habit."

"It's better than your smoking habit," he commented.

"Well, I don't smoke anymore. I gave my last pack to Daryl anyway, before I left."

"Speaking of that, you don't intend to leave again, do you?" He stared at her. "Or are you going to high tail it out of here once the baby's born?"

"Why does that matter?"

"Because I don't want my child to grow up without its mother," he retorted. "I don't know you. I'll admit that. You paint one hell of a picture, but it doesn't match you at all, I've learned. But I won't let you abandon our baby."

"Trust me, Tobin, it might be in the child's best interest if I weren't around," she remarked. "I'm not...good at being a mother."

"Now that's bullshit." Her head snapped up, and he continued. "I've seen you with these people, and I told you what I told you that night before you and the group left to deal with...Negan. You're a mom, and from how you tend to the people here so diligently, I'd say you're a damn good one. You care so much, and I know how you are with Judith—"

"You don't know the luck I bring with me, Tobin," she interjected. "You don't know the half of it."

"Does anybody?"

She inhaled deeply, an answer flashing in her eyes, and she shrugged a shoulder.

He rubbed a thumb over his upper lip. "Right, of course."

"I have to get back to the house, take care of Judith for Rick and Michonne. They need some time to themselves, and I have dinner plans apparently." She was on her feet and gripping the railing, still facing him.

"With who?"

Carol frowned at the tone in his voice. "Why are you asking me like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like a possessive boyfriend." She crossed her arms. "We aren't together, Tobin."

"I know. I'd just like to know who you're having dinner with. You don't seem all that thrilled, so I was just curious."

"Eric. He's lonely without Aaron, and he may have backed me into a corner, but he did mention pasta. It sounds good." She smiled a little. "Daryl had his pasta, said it wasn't half bad, though it's easy to please Daryl. As long as it's decently warm and maybe won't give him salmonella, he'll eat it."

"Will he be there too?"

She heard the tone again, but decided to avoid an argument and not acknowledge it. "Not that I know of, but maybe. He and Aaron are friends, so Eric may invite him too."

He nodded. "I hope you have a good time."

She pulled out another fake smile and departed, an eagerness to slip out taking up residency in her gut. She didn't know why Tobin was jealous of Daryl, or why he was so invested in knowing everything she planned to do, but he needed to back off. She didn't know what the future held for her or the baby, and she and Daryl were...friends. There were some issues still there, but they were friends. Daryl would invest himself in ensuring the baby was all right, but after what happened with Maggie and what happened with Lori, you couldn't blame him for his concern. And if Tobin was then she would need to have a word with him in the near future.

– – –

Carol arrived at Eric's house shortly after nightfall, Michonne and Rick were still upstairs, so she let Carl take Judith. They were going to join Enid at Denise's for dinner, and Tara was likely trying to get Maggie to eat something again. She hoped she was triumphant this time, because she did need to eat. She needed that strength to recover. If she ever did.

"Carol." Eric greeted her with yet another broad smile and showed her inside. "You're just in time."

"Am I?" She entered the house, smelling the dinner he'd prepared, and she folded her arms. "So, it's just us tonight?"

"Well, not exactly."

"Who else is here?" She prayed Tobin hadn't come and asked to join them, because she couldn't sit through what she knew would be an awkward dinner plus Tobin.

"I invited just one other person. I always make too much, and I don't like to waste, so I'm sure he can help us with that." He guided her toward the dining room where the plates were laid out and their meal. "I'd offer you some wine, but I don't think that's a good idea."

"My grandmother always said one glass wouldn't hurt," she said, "but I'd rather not have any."

"I'll get you some water then."

"Thank you."

"No, thank you for coming." His smile saddened some, the spark in his eyes dimming, and his smile tightened. "I'm glad you're here. Both of you."

Carol looked over and saw a figure sitting in the chair in the corner of the room, hidden by shadow, and she frowned as Eric fetched the drinks. She saw the person stand, and she was relieved somewhat to see it was just Daryl. She could handle a night with just Eric and Daryl. It might not even be so bad.

"You're here too?" She stepped toward him.

"Yeah, he tracked me down at the site, wouldn't let me say no." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I didn't know you'd be here."

"Yeah, me neither. He...bulldozed me into coming too."

"Seems like he didn't wanna be alone. Can't really blame him."

"I suppose not." She wrapped her fingers around her wrist, that earlier feeling returning and nagging her. "So, how good is the pasta?"

"Pretty good." He smiled a little to the left of his mouth. "Bet yours would be better."

She smiled in return. "Flatter."

"Just speakin' the truth."

She lost her smile, a cold air spilling into the room, and Daryl started to ask what was wrong but Eric returned. They sat down for dinner, Carol had lost her appetite, but didn't want to seem rude, so she forced it down. It was good, like Daryl had said, but she could hardly taste it. Her brain kept replaying those words over and over on a loop in her mind, and her stomach tightened. She hoped she wouldn't barf up this meal, because it would be so rude, though she could blame it on the baby and "morning" sickness. That was one upside.

Daryl observed Carol from where he sat at the table, eating less like a cavemen this time, mostly because he wasn't as starving for real food and partly because he had table manners. He decided to use them, mostly to keep Eric from smirking at him and Carol from reprimanding him. Her scold was the same for when Sophia and Carl tried to get out of homework at the quarry. She had Lori's glower to back her up then, but he figured it'd be just as bad now. Besides he didn't want to confirm she was so lost in her thoughts she didn't notice he'd sucked down his plate of food.

Eric could see Carol was lost to her thoughts and Daryl was distracted by Carol. He could tell Daryl loved her, though he wondered if Daryl knew just how much and in what way. He'd seen Daryl with every member of his original team, but he got a feeling from these two. It was similar to the one he'd felt with Maggie and Glenn, though more subtle. Perhaps because they hadn't acknowledged this themselves. Or they simply didn't want to.

"So," Eric drew, "how was the appointment? I've heard bits and pieces, but I'd rather hear it from you."

"It went well." Carol set her fork down and grasped her water.

"Kid looks good and healthy as far as Harlan can tell," Daryl added. "Said to come back in few more weeks. We'll probably take a car next time, if your stomach isn't as soft."

"It'd save gas."

Eric glanced from Carol to Daryl and back, and if he didn't know who the father was, he'd swear it was Daryl. He didn't even hear this much from Tobin, the actual father. He wondered how much it would sting if Tobin knew how little actually knew about his own child. He wouldn't be the one to spill the beans, but he had a feeling those beans were piling up. He wondered just how long until it all came spilling out.

"Tobin's coming with us next," Carol reminded him. "And probably Denise too. She wants to learn from Harlan, so she'll likely tag along on every trip."

"Great."

"What's with that tone?"

"I'll be right back." Eric excused himself, not wanting to be in the middle of this spat, and he wanted a bit more wine. He might even need it to get through what was about to come from those two.

"It's gonna be three of us lookin' after you," he replied. "Tobin ain't much in a fight, to be honest."

"You don't know that."

"Yeah, neither does he."

"He'll do his best."

"His best might get someone killed. I don't want it to be you or me or Denise. Or hell, even himself."

"Daryl, he isn't a child. He's fought walkers before."

"It ain't just walkers out there, and you know that."

She shook her head. "Maybe you shouldn't come next time."

"What?"

"If you have such a problem with Tobin coming, I'll ask Rick to take us. He does have a lot of experience with dealing with people."

"I'm comin' with you."

"I don't want to sit in a car where you and Tobin are attacking each other with jabs for the entire trip to Hilltop. I can't put Denise through that either, so if you're going to start something, or if he starts something, it only makes sense that you stay behind." She didn't want to say this, but she couldn't avoid saying it either. God, this was going to sting. "You're not the father, after all, and Tobin should be there. He wants to be there, and...it's not right to make him stay behind again."

He snorted. "Right." He stood to leave.

"Daryl." She rose with him. "It's the truth."

"I know."

"Then why are you acting...like I'm doing this...saying this intentionally?" She searched his eyes. "I told Tobin he could be there, and you two don't get along, so what do you want me to do? I can't pick and chose, Daryl. He has...more of a right to be there as he's the father than you do as my friend. I'm sorry. That's just the way it is."

"I get it."

"You won't miss much, just a boring car ride to Hilltop, and I'll have Harlan give me a sonogram, so you can see the baby."

"Tell Eric I'm sorry to leave, but I got the wall tonight."

"Daryl." She tried to reach him, but he was out the door before she could get around the table, and she huffed. "Daryl!" She groaned and leaned against the wall. It was just the truth, goddamn it!

––

Daryl peeled out of the house, storming down the street like a bull, and he huffed. He knew he shouldn't be so pissed. He knew he had no right to be this goddamn livid, but here he was, fuming, close to foaming at the mouth like a rabid dog. She was right in every way about this decision, and he knew it. He fucking knew it, but it didn't ease the burning jealousy in his chest or the worry and terror that choked his lungs. Being right and speaking the truth were both shit right now.

He knew Rick could handle getting them to Hilltop and back in one piece. He trusted Rick and his ability to survive, to follow through with the mission, and he knew Denise would ensure Carol's safety. She wouldn't do anything to put the baby in harm's way, and that meant not putting Carol in harm's way. Denise had the guts and the strength to survive. She proved that to him on their run and at her first trip to Hilltop. He trusted them to get Carol back in one piece.

However he didn't trust Tobin with a wooden toothpick, let alone a grown, pregnant woman, a doctor and their leader. He knew from Abraham that when things got too hard, Tobin ditched a young woman to save himself. He knew Tobin held his own against all those walkers, but he had no choice. They were threatening his home, his life, and he had no choice but to fight. Yet given the chance to run, he'd proven he'd leave his people in a heartbeat. He knew it was different now, with Carol carrying his child, but fear made people do terrible things. He knew that better than most, and he didn't trust Tobin to stay when it counted.

He knew Carol didn't need the protection, but throw ten or twenty walkers at them? Or a horde like they'd come across many times? They didn't stand a chance, and they might not be able to avoid it. If they couldn't run, if they were was no backup plan, Daryl needed to know without a shadow of a doubt that Carol was all right, that the baby was all right, that Denise and Rick would be safe. He needed to know, to be reassured, and Tobin didn't reassure him. Tobin only increased his concern. He had to be there, to provide protection and make a way out if the occasion called for it. He had to know that if any of them were to die, they did their damn best for as long as they could.

He knew he could follow them to Hilltop, but he didn't want to do that. He wanted to be in the car with them, but if they were taking a car, only four people would fit, and he wouldn't squeeze in the back between the women. If they had a minivan or something, he could be in the back, away from Tobin, and Carol wouldn't have to worry about tension or jabs. He'd keep his distance, and he'd be there. He couldn't leave things up to chance, or up to only Rick and Denise and Carol if the situation was bad enough. He couldn't.

He calmed himself and began to look over the cars they had. The trip wasn't for a while now, so if he needed to go out and steal a damn minivan, he'd do it. He wasn't going to sit on the sidelines and possibly risk his family. No way, not while he still drew breath.

––

"I'm sorry," Carol apologized to Eric. "We weren't the best guests tonight."

"It's fine." He waved her apology away. "It happens. People fight. Friends, family, couples. It happens."

She nodded. "Dinner was great, but I'm a little tired so..."

"Go right ahead and get some rest." He began to gather up the plates. "I'm glad you two come out tonight. It meant...a lot to me."

"I'm glad you invited me. Next time will be better, I hope."

"You and Daryl have a lot to work through," Eric agreed. "I'm rooting for you two."

Carol frowned slightly, not sure what he meant by that, as she and Daryl could work through most arguments. Although he didn't know that, so that was likely why he'd said that. "Thanks. You have a good night, Eric."

"You too."

She exited the house and wanted to bolt. There was so much here, so much stress and tension and expectations and demands. Her head was spinning, and she just wanted out. She was over a month pregnant, and that wasn't an option, but maybe... Maybe if she timed it right, she could find a way to get some air for a brief period.


	14. (No) Air

Bright and early the next morning, Carol discovered she'd been outside the walls for about an hour now, nobody had seen her slip out, and nobody had come chasing after her. She was beyond grateful for Abraham being on the wall today with Sasha and Michonne on patrol. He was dedicated and focused on his job, but now and then he'd sneak a glance at her. Carol timed it well enough to slip out without so much as a hushed creak from the gate.

It was such a beautiful day, the warm air blew at her in a gentle breeze, and she felt like she could breathe for the first time in what felt truly like lifetimes. She wasn't cramped or cooped up in some tiny room. There were no walls here, no restrictions, no one to tell her what to do and how to do it. It was just her and nature. And of course walkers, but she knew how to handle them.

She ambled through tall grass, eyes narrow at the bright sun above her, and she brushed her fingertips over the top of the tall grass. It tickled, and she smiled a little to herself, the silence like an embraced she'd longed to have. She almost didn't want to ever turn around and go back to Alexandria. She didn't want to be watched and wrapped in a blanket. She was pregnant, not dying, and she wished they'd understood that. She knew the risks at her age, better than they did, and even if it were to happen, it'd happen to her. So if she was going to possibly die, she wanted to breathe and be alive for as long as she could. They didn't have to understand. It was enough that she did.

Her feet halted at a disturbance in her journey, and she knew exactly what that disturbance was. She didn't want to face it head on. She didn't want to face it at all, but she had no choice. It wasn't something to simply elude. He wasn't something she could shake off her trail, not when he could simply track her by it.

She turned to face a very, very incensed redneck, and she braced herself for the torrent of statements that would come rolling off his tongue.

"What the hell are you doin'?!" he seethed when the space between them had closed. "What the hell were you thinkin'?!"

"I'm thinking I'm taking a walk. What does it look like?"

"You can take a damn walk inside the walls!"

"No, I can't. I can't breathe in those walls. I can't think when I'm being trapped in a box, and I needed to breathe. I needed fresh air, and I'm sorry you don't understand that, but I won't apologize for leaving."

"You shouldn't be out there alone! There's air within the damn walls of home!" Daryl shouted after the words left her lips. "You can't be out here, especially now!"

"Oh, I can't be out here?" She whirled around and threw her arms out. "I seem to be doing just fine!"

"You know what I meant." He stormed over to her. "C'mon, we're goin' back."

"No, we are not going anywhere, Daryl. I am going to continue what I was doing, and you can head back, if you want. Follow me, if you makes you feel better. I honestly don't care. I just need some air."

"There's plenty of air back in Alexandria—where it's safe!"

She opened her mouth to argue what she meant, but she stopped herself. She turned on her heel and walked away, furthering the distance between her and Alexandria. She couldn't be there right now. She had hoped once the pregnancy was cemented, Michonne and Rick would let up, but they were cracking down. She couldn't breathe air that wasn't theirs, and if she went outside, Tobin was right there. She couldn't take it anymore. She knew they wanted the best for her and the baby, but they were smothering her. She couldn't stand to sit in her room or be watched while doing simple tasks like tending to the garden or taking a walk. They didn't watch forever either. Tobin or Rick would make her stop after twenty minutes or so, pump her full of water so she didn't get dehydrated and then have her sit down. She couldn't deal with it today.

And she did know how hazardous and asinine this was, but in a couple months she wouldn't be able to take a deep breath in, so at least once before that time came, she wanted to suck in as much air as she could without lurkers. Or at least the Rick and Tobin lurkers. She loved Rick, but if he didn't stop treating her like she was some fragile porcelain doll, she was going to start locking him in his room. If she asked Michonne at the right time, hell she might help. She'd backed off, clearly able to detect Carol's irritation of being babied and coddled. Why the hell Rick and especially Tobin couldn't pick up on that? It wasn't a slight feeling. For fuck's sake, she even said it now and then, and Rick backed off. He even tried to placate her and her shitty mood with small treats now and then, and it was very kind of him, though she had a feeling it was Michonne who made them, but she let Rick give them to Carol. She was the new Mom of the household, and she was trying to keep the peace. Carol was grateful.

Carol heard Daryl's grunt behind her, and she almost smiled. She wasn't sure how she'd handle being alone with him, but at this point, after so many weeks of being caged and finally being free to roam, she didn't give a shit. She knew it was always on the edge of devouring her, what happened with the girls, but right now the only thing on her mind was the sweet thought of liberation. She wouldn't let Daryl take her back until she was ready, and she could only hope they didn't find themselves in a sticky situation before then.

– – –

The couple roamed in silence, Carol was leading them in no particular direction, merely enjoying the day and the scents of the wild flowers and trees, enjoying how the darkness hadn't caught up to them. Yet. She knew it drifting behind her and would eventually catch up to haunt her, but for now, it wasn't. She would pretend for a moment maybe things would be okay. She knew they wouldn't be, but the sweetest lies were the ones they told themselves, right?

Daryl's senses were heightened with Carol out there, even more so with the baby inside of her, and he wanted to grab her and drag her back to Alexandria. He'd love to throw her over his shoulder and haul her back to safety. He knew she wouldn't go along with that. She wasn't a child to be saved and led back to Alexandria. She was an adult/royal pain in his ass who was going to give him a fucking stroke one of these days, he swore she would. He was just waiting for it to happen, like he'd wake up, and she'd have done something or gone somewhere he couldn't track, and it would be all over.

However he couldn't deny the warmth in his chest at her demeanor. She'd been so easily pissed the last couple of weeks, and he kept away from her, because he didn't want to add to the reasons she was livid. Though watching her simply walk ahead of him, he could tell she was relaxed, maybe even a little happy. He hadn't seen her like this in a long time, and he wanted that to last for her. He knew she didn't have much joy these days, what with Tobin and Rick always on her like flies on crap, so he'd watch her back, let her smell the roses and be a silent shadow behind her. It was the least he could do.

About an hour into their meandering, Daryl picked up his pace to be beside her. He didn't know anything about pregnant women and exercise, but he knew it couldn't be too strenuous, like this. They'd been walking for a long time, and she hadn't stopped for water or food, and he had to draw the line.

"Hey, stop."

She looked at him. "Why?"

"Just stop." He reached out for her, but she stopped walking, and he noticed she was out of breath. "I brought some water." He removed the backpack from his shoulders and dug out a lukewarm bottle of water. It'd have to do. "Here."

She unscrewed the cap and drank what she intended to be a small sip but ended up nearly chugging it.

"I brought some food too." He sat down on the ground, and she sat on a rock across from him. "Denise made a couple of these for you, said the protein'd be good for the baby."

She squinted at him. "She just happened to make them for me today?"

He shook his head. "Well, I made 'em. She just taught me how."

"You made these?" She reached out to accept the small, lumpy cake from him. "For me?"

The tips of his hears reddened. "For the kid," he mumbled.

"Thank you."

"We ain't got much of it, and I dunno if you can even taste it, but there's a bit of chocolate in it too." He sifted through the bag to avoid eye contact. If he was blushing, he would blame it on the heat, but he didn't want to chance it. If she saw him blushing, she'd tease him and make it worse.

"What did you bring for yourself?"

"I could always hunt for myself," he reminded her.

"You only brought food for me?" She frowned. "Daryl, you've been out here as long as I have. Why didn't you bring more food?"

"I planned on takin' you right back, and I got somethin', just don't really want it."

"Well, eat it."

"I ain't hungry. I'll save it for the trip back." He chewed on his thumbnail. "But you eat, all right? Thing better be gone before we head out."

She pursed her lips and moved to sit down on the ground, her legs brushing against his, and she pried off a piece of the cake cookie thing Daryl had made her. "Where do you think we're going?"

He shrugged. "Ain't much out here."

"You and Rick searched here?"

"Yeah, a while back. There's a couple cabins ahead, but ain't much else." He raised his legs. "Where are you headed?"

"I don't know." She popped in the piece she'd freed from the gooey cluster and focused on chewing it.

"I get it—the needing space thing. Rick and Tobin are always on you, so I get why you wanted out. You just can't do this anymore. I mean, not alone."

"I'm not alone." She was too hungry to pick at the cluster, so she tore into it, and it was surprisingly delicious. It was gooey from the sun, but it was sweet, despite not having a lot of chocolate in it. She wondered if he used honey. It wouldn't amaze her to learn he'd stick his hand into a hive for honey. She had noticed a couple jars in the pantry with the honey and even the honeycomb. She hadn't gotten to ask Olivia where it came from, but from how this tasted and how sticky it was, she didn't need to.

"Baby can't do much to protect either one of you." He shook his head. "You should've told Michonne or somebody you were headin' out."

"You didn't even know I was gone?"

"I wanted to give you that, and I asked Rick where you were. He said at Tobin's, but I asked Tobin where you were, and he said at home. Figured it out pretty quick from there."

She smiled a little. "I used to use that on my parents. Say I was staying with a friend, and my friend would say she was staying with me, and we'd...wander for hours."

He'd never heard her talk about her parents before, and he nodded, wondering if she'd tell him more. He was a little sad when she didn't continue, but he was happy to learn that about her. He knew her life now pretty well, but her past was a mystery to him. He knew about Ed, but nothing beyond that. He didn't even know who or what the hell she was before the world went to shit. A housewife, maybe. He wasn't going to ask. He didn't want to make her think back to that time in her life.

"Here." He scooted the water she'd been drinking closer to her.

She leaned over for the bottle but noticed movement in the trees behind them. "Daryl." She reached for her knife.

At her going for her knife, he jumped up with his crossbow to kill whatever was approaching, and he found a female walker stumbling toward them. She had been a walker for a while now, moss clinging to her chest, her face sunken in, and there was no blood on her mouth. She growled at them, a brittle and weak sound, and he was about to take aim and kill it when he saw movement behind her.

"Shit." He grabbed blindly at Carol. "We gotta move!"

There were about twenty walkers behind her, maybe more way in the back, and they could take them out, but Daryl wouldn't risk the baby this way. They were close to those cabins he mentioned anyway. He bashed the female walker's face when Carol grabbed the backpack, and he made sure she was in front of him, telling her which was to go.

The walkers had spotted them, stumbling along behind them, and Daryl remembered most of the cabins were in shit condition, but there were one of two that were sturdy. He and Rick had searched them for food, clothes, seeds and medicine. Daryl made a note of the cabin with all the bird feeders. It'd be a good safe house, somewhere to lie low until walkers had passed. The wood was strong, could hold against a few of them pounding on it, and the windows were small, mostly there for decoration.

"Get inside!" He turned and unsheathed his knife, taking out two of the walkers hot on their heels, and he dove inside after Carol.

"The door won't shut."

Shit, that's right. He and Rick busted the door down to get inside. "Hold on." He could hear the walkers approaching, and he threw his weight against the door, his arm around her, and he told her he had it. "Find somethin' we can block the door with," he whispered.

Carol dropped the bag on the floor and scanned the interior of the cabin. It was a three room cabin, and this room was both the kitchen and the living room, most of it fitted against the back wall, but the couch was sturdy. It'd be hard to move, but that's what they needed. She just hoped she could move the damn thing herself.

Moving it while on the rug had been a challenge. It wouldn't budge, and Daryl could see it wasn't moving. He listened with his ear against the door for a moment then ran over and lifted the end up and off the rug. Carol would have done the same had he let her, but it was a heavy piece of furniture, so he did it himself. Together they pushed it to the door, it scrapped across the floor loudly, but just as a walker found the door, they'd slammed it shut. Its hand had been caught, but Daryl grabbed it and sliced it off, tossing it a nearby bucket.

Panting, Carol collapsed onto the couch, and Daryl slumped against the wall momentarily. He pushed off to secure the windows, and he covered the windows with the many painted pictures of the woods. It wouldn't keep them out, but they couldn't look inside. They wouldn't know they were in here if they kept quiet. They'd eventually move on, or maybe an animal would dart by and get their attention. Either way, it aided them in laying low.

He covered the window in the bathroom, though there was little need as it was small. Better safe than sorry though. He tested the sink and was surprised when water gushed out. It was brown and smelled, but after a few seconds of letting it run, it became clear. He smirked. "Hey, Carol."

"What?"

He exited the bathroom. "We got runnin' water. It must be hooked up a well somewhere around here."

"That looks like a gas stove." Carol pointed out the green and white stove in the corner of the room. There was one just like it at the grove. Lovely. "Whoever built this place didn't want to rely on anyone else."

Daryl crouched down across from Carol, his back against the wall, and he ran his eyes over the room. "Ain't a bad place be trapped in."

"There's a good place to be trapped in?" Carol rubbed the back of her neck.

"Better than the last time."

"In the train car?"

"Well, time before that, I guess."

"You don't have to tell me."

"No, it wasn't like the train car. It was after the prison. Beth and me...we got stuck in the trunk of a car for hours, waitin' on walkers to pass. That was hell. It was hot, worse with us bein' crammed in there, and I'm pretty sure my sweat was sweatin'." He rubbed his chin. "We were breathin' each others breath."

"Ew."

He nodded. "So, this place ain't too bad." He peeked at her then stared at her lap. "Carol." His voice was a low quiver, and it shimmered in his eyes.

She frowned and followed his gaze to where blood stained her pants. She pressed her legs together and stood up, heading to the bathroom.

"Carol!" He tried to catch on her, but she was quick when she wanted to be, and his heart raced. "Carol?"

She didn't answer him, and he felt his blood run cold. He thought over all of the things that could be wrong or—or right, even, but they had just ran a good half mile to get here, trying to flee a handful of walkers, and then they shoved the hundred pound couch against the door. He didn't like what kept popping up in his mind, and he couldn't keep the image of blood on her pants out of his head.

––

About ten minutes later the door opened, Daryl rose up from the floor, and Carol didn't seem distressed at all. He had nearly had a stroke, and she looked as though she'd just brushed her teeth. What the hell?

"It's okay."

"Okay? You're bleedin'! That ain't okay!"

She smiled faintly at his concern. "It's just spotting, okay? It happens."

"Are you sure? The baby's okay?" He came close to touching her stomach, worried that this might have been more than whatever spotting was. He wanted nothing more than to get her to Harlan.

"I'm sure. I have a lot of blood in my body right now, and this is common." She could see he wasn't fully buying it. "Do you want me to go into detail about it? It involves words like discharge and vagina."

He turned blood red, and she chuckled at the sight. "You're okay?"

"I'm okay."

He exhaled, nearly sagging against the door frame with relief. "I—I thought—"

"I know what you thought. I thought it too, but this happened before with Sophia." She leaned on the frame. "Are there any spare clothes here?"

"Probably in the bedroom. Why?"

"We'll be stuck here awhile, and I'd rather not be wearing this the entire time." She pushed off the frame of the door and headed to the bedroom, finding the drawers empty, save for a few blankets. She pressed her lips together, biting on her bottom lip, and she spotted a chest at the foot of the bed. She bent down in front of it and lifted the lid, finding clothes inside. They were mostly men's clothes, but she found a couple pairs of woman's jeans and tank tops underneath all of the sweatshirts and plaid button ups. She even found a towel that smelled like wood from being in the chest for so long, but it was clean. At least with no stains or signs of it having been used before.

Daryl stopped pacing when Carol stepped out of the bedroom, his eyes closing in on the items in her hand. "You're showerin'?"

"You said the water worked."

"Well, yeah, it does."

"Then I'll see you when I get out." She paused in the doorway to tease him. "Unless you'd like to join me."

He flushed. "S—stop."

"Your loss." She closed the door and turned the lock, though it wasn't necessary. She knew he wouldn't try anything. He'd probably double check to guarantee the house was secure then sit and wait for the walkers to waddle off. She hoped it wouldn't be long, but then again the longer they were outside, the longer they were away from Alexandria. Their lack of food did put a damper on things, and she didn't want to see Daryl like that again. He was pale with terror. She'd never seen him look like that before. Well, there was one time...but she was so out of it. It might not have been his actual expression.

She glanced back at the door, wondering which Daryl was more afraid of losing: the baby, or her?

– – –

Daryl knew there was no food in the house. He and Rick had cleaned it out of all its preserves and the many cans of tuna, but he had hoped for Carol's sake they'd missed something. He could try and slip out to hunt, but he didn't want to leave her with the walkers, or have her think he abandoned her. They couldn't leave together with the walkers there, and he wasn't going to have her shimmy through a window, that blood natural or not. He wanted her to stay here and rest, so he'd have to come up with some way to get food.

He pulled a picture down to see if any walkers remained. He could hear them by the door, but nowhere else. He wasn't sure he could fit through this window, to be honest. The bedroom window, maybe, but not this one.

"What are you doing?"

He didn't turn around. "Just checkin' for walkers."

"I could hear them in the bathroom."

"Yeah, I know, but if we're stuck in here for a long time, we need food. I was thinkin' I could slip out by myself and get some."

"If you can slip out, why not both of us? We could get out of here."

"'Cause I don't want you out there." He turned to face her, blinking at the woman he found. She looked so different standing there in snugly fit blue jeans and a blue tank top. She was shrugging into a red plaid button up, glaring at him for his statement, and he tried to collect his thought. He'd seen her in a lot of clothes before, but not something so...fitting. She looked really beautiful, the blue of the shirt brought out the blue of her eyes, and her hair was damp from the shower. He bet she smelled like soap.

"I can handle some walkers, Daryl." She crossed her arms. "If it's the spotting you're worried about—don't. I told you it's normal."

"Be lucky I ain't draggin' you to Harlan's," he grumbled.

She rolled her eyes. "You're being ridiculous."

"Maybe I am. Maybe I'm bein' overprotective and irrational, but I ain't about to let you climb out of a window and fight I don't know how many walkers! Now, you wanted to get out of Alexandria for a time, and you have! Now, we're doin' this my way, 'cause I'm not lettin' anythin' happen to you or the baby, so go lie down and rest. If I can deal with these walkers, I will, and we'll go back, but if not—well, get comfy."

She lowered her arms and averted her eyes. "Fine."

He narrowed his eyes. "Really? You're just gonna listen to me now?"

"I put your life at risk by not turning back, so fine. I'll go rest, but you're not leaving without me."

"You need to eat. The baby needs to eat. There ain't food in here."

"You're not going out there alone. I won't have you risk your life for food you may or may not find. I'll be fine. I just ate that oat chocolate cluster you made me. There's still some left, if you're hungry."

"I got some canned chicken, but it's noon, Carol. That leaves all night, possibly all morning, if the walkers don't clear out."

"One missed meal isn't going to hurt anybody."

"Yeah, but it could hurt the baby."

She threw her arms up partway. "We're getting nowhere. The baby will be fine. I'll eat the rest of that cluster later. Stop worrying so much. I know how pregnancy works better than you do, all right? Give me a little trust here."

"Fine. I trust you."

"Thank you."

A beat.

"So..." She motioned behind her with her thumb. "Do you mind if I take a short nap? I'm exhausted."

"Ain't nothin' else to do here."

She peered at him over her shoulder once in the bedroom. "Please, don't go anywhere, Daryl."

He gave a slight nod. "Get some sleep."

She didn't believe him, and honestly if he wanted to slip out, she couldn't stop him. She didn't like knowing he'd be out there with ten or fifteen walkers on his tail. He could manage two or three, but any more than that was pushing it. She didn't want him danger. She didn't want him to die, because he was trying to feed her and the baby. Because he was worried out of his mind about the baby. The thought of anything happening to him made her want to be ill, and her doubt must have shown in her eyes, because he called out to her.

"I'll stay with you till you fall asleep." He sat on the wooden chest.

She smiled weakly and lied down, moving the pillow to the foot of the bed by him, and she didn't bother with the covers. She swallowed and sighed. "I didn't mean to get you caught up in this."

He turned to face her, folding his legs. "You didn't make me come after you."

"If I had never left, you wouldn't be in this position."

"If you'd never left, you woulda put Tobin's head through the front door." His lips twitched at the soft laugh she gave. "I told you before. I get it. Don't apologize." He lowered his voice, speaking softer, "Get some sleep."

"You'll stay here?" She gazed up at him.

He nodded.

"Daryl?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry about last night. At Eric's. What I said and suggested..." She shook her head. "I''m not sorry about what I said, just how I said it. I don't want to put you in an awkward situation. I know you and Tobin don't exactly see eye to eye, and I wanted to avoid more conflict."

"I know," he murmured. "It's all right, and you were right about Tobin...havin' more of a right than me, but I'll get it sorted. And I'll be here when you wake up, so go ahead and get some sleep." He didn't like it, but he understood it, even if he did think it was bullshit. She was right, but he was enraged. He'd over it, and he'd get it sorted, like he'd told her. He just needed a minivan. He'd be there until he felt Tobin could provide proper support and protection for them, which may never happen, but who could say what the future held?

She closed her eyes, the sounds of the walkers growling just outside did little to lull her to sleep, but she could hear Daryl breathing too. The sound of it was like a trance, her breathing subconsciously began to match his, and her eyelids were too heavy to hold up. She drifted off.

Daryl waited about twenty minutes—or what he assumed was twenty minutes—before he tiptoed out of the room. He had two cans of chicken, but only two and a less than half of the oat cake he'd made for her wasn't good enough. She needed real food. She was lying to herself if she thought she could get through the rest of the day on that. He always heard how much pregnant women ate, and he knew if they had the supplies then Lori would eaten a lot too.

He was positive there was a river nearby. He could catch some fish and cook them up on the stove. Fish was good for pregnant woman, right? Hell, he had no clue, but fish oil was good for people. If he caught a lot, Carol could eat as much as she wanted. She might throw it all up in the morning, but oh well. He'd rather she puked up a big meal than two measly oats. She could chew him out around forkfuls of fish.

He used the window in the kitchen, having to toss his crossbow out first. He was used to slipping in and out of small places, and he'd knocked on the door to draw them there. Carol slept like the dead lately, so he didn't worry about waking her with the knocking.

He left the window slightly open and headed out, taking out one of the walkers on his way.

– – –

Carol was woken up by the sound of something shattering. She shot up, pulling her knife from her belt, and she found herself in darkness. She felt through the unlit room, discovering the door was closed, and she threw it open, finding Daryl in the living room, cleaning up a mess of guts and bones with the light of a couple oil lamps.

"What is that?" She covered her mouth with her hand at the smell.

Daryl tossed the bits into the bucket with the walker hand and grabbed a dishtowel to clean off his hands. "What it looked like."

She entered the room and found about four fish cleaned and cut on the kitchen table. She turned a sharp glare to him. "You said you weren't going to leave."

"Till you fell asleep." He waved a hand down himself. "And I'm fine. Like you said before: it's done. Arguin' now ain't gonna change that I went out. Just be glad we have real food."

She slipped her knife into its sheath and exhaled. "I'm going to wash my face."

He smirked when she disappeared into the bathroom. She looked adorable just then, her hair sticking out in all directions, her furious glare blunt on her still sleepy face, and she was practically swimming in that plaid shirt. He'd never thought of her as adorable before, but he had the same feeling in his chest as he did when Judy did something cute. Only it hurt at the same time. He didn't know why, but he had to cook, so he didn't waste time on it.

Carol emerged from the bathroom and sat on the couch, helping herself to the rest of the oat cluster he'd made for her, and she finished the water from earlier as well. She watched Daryl cook, and she realized it was the first time she'd seen him actually cook. Normally Carol did the cooking after he'd gutted and cleaned whatever animal he'd caught for them. It was a nice change, even more so when she envisioned him in a chef's hat and apron.

"What?" Daryl caught her staring.

"Nothing." She licked the stickiness off her fingers.

"How was your nap?"

"Does it count as a nap if I slept from noon to nightfall?" He shrugged. "Then it was fine. I slept better than I thought I would."

"That's good, 'cause we're stayin' the night."

"I figured." She stood up and approached him. "I appreciate you doing this."

"Hmm?" His gaze moved to her face.

"Thinking of ways to keep baby out of harm's way, making sure the baby has enough to eat, that I'm resting enough—I appreciate it. You're treating the baby like a top priority without...treating me like I'm four years old. You don't know what that means to me."

"It ain't just the baby," he corrected, "that I'm tryin' keep outta harm's way."

The air around them softened, Carol wasn't sure what to say to that, and Daryl could tell. He didn't want this to grow awkward, so he asked her to hand him one of the oil lamps so he could see better. She held it to him, and he checked on the fish. He wanted to make sure it thoroughly cooked, and he'd give it a bit longer before it was there.

"Gonna be a minute." He gently took the lamp from her. "Why don't you sit? Or find a book. Probably all about nature, but better than just sittin' around."

She stepped back, finding the small pile of books between the TV and the wall. She bent down to search through the covers, and Daryl was right about the nature. She found one on herbs and medicinal plants and identifying them. It couldn't hurt to learn about that type of thing, so she curled up on the couch and began to read.

––

Dinner had been nice, Carol even joked about him cooking for her more often, and the sound of walkers outside became background noise. He could see parts of the old Carol, the one he knew at the prison, the one who hadn't dealt with whatever went down with Lizzie and Mika, and he found he didn't miss her. He missed the light in her eyes, the genuine laughs she gave and how open she was with people close to her. He felt a wall between them, and he didn't know when it went up or if he'd ever see it come down.

She cleaned off the plates out of habit, Daryl gave the couch an extra push to make sure it'd stay put through the night, and Carol tried to offer to keep watch, but he wouldn't let her. She wasn't tired, but she could sleep. She decided to try and trick him into sleeping, but in the end, she was out cold on the bed, and he was beside her, listening to the walkers. He wouldn't be able to sleep with them outside, but he'd locked the bedroom door, and the window was blocked. He could bash it open if he had to, but they were as safe he could make them.

He looked over at Carol as she slept, his eyes tracing the outline of her face, and they moved down her body to the shirt he could almost see in the dark. It was a relatively bright blue, so even the dark he could see it. He rolled onto his side, listening to Carol exhaled slowly, and he tried to imagine her as round as Lori had been. He wasn't sure he could, to be honest. If he did, he'd think about what happened to Lori. He couldn't think of that happening to Carol. He refused to think of it. Carol and Lori were two different women. Lori couldn't even have Carl without a C-section, but Carol could. Well, she'd never mentioned it, but she never mentioned having Sophia via a C-section either.

He gnawed on his bottom lip. They had a clinic. They had two doctors. They had the equipment to keep her alive, to deliver the baby no matter what happened. He trusted Denise. She'd proven herself, though he knew she had it in her, and she was a good person. She'd do anything to help Carol and the baby survive labor. He knew that, and he knew Harlan wouldn't want to lose another child. He knew Harlan didn't know Carol at all, but he was a good guy. He had been thrilled at the sight of Carol's baby on the screen, or so was the impression Daryl had gotten when he came out to talk to Denise. He'd keep them alive.

Carol was strong. She had this will like he'd never seen. He knew shit happened to her when the prison went down, after Rick dumped her on the side of the road. He knew she might never tell him about it, but she came back. She saved them at Terminus, and she saved the people of Alexandria during the wolf attack. She wasn't indestructible, but she knew how to survive, how to protect people, and she was good at it. She was as good as he was at it, and he knew she'd come out of a possible C-section alive. Or any other complications that might occur, like breech birth. He'd heard Hershel talking about it, and he didn't have all the information, but she'd be fine. The kid would be fine. Sophia was a tough cookie too, just caught off guard by this piece of shit world. He wouldn't let that happen to this kid. He'd sooner die than let anything happen to this kid.

He didn't realize until he felt movement that he'd moved his hand over her stomach. He instantly tensed, but Carol was still asleep. He wanted to move his hand and roll away and forget his hand had been anywhere near her when she was unconscious, but his hand didn't comply. There was something weird bubbling up inside of him, and he felt sad again. It slammed down on his chest, and he lowered his gaze.

He hoped the baby was okay after today's chaos, and it wasn't just for Carol's sake either. He greatly cared for Carol, and it didn't matter that it was Tobin's kid, because it was hers too. It was hers, and he cared about it as well. It was his family too. He didn't want anything to happen to the baby, not even for it to be hungry for even a night. He hoped the spotting was just that, because if anything happened to this kid, to Carol's baby, he'd snap. It was awful what happened with Maggie and Glenn, and he couldn't handle it happening again. Again and to Carol. Two unborn babies gone? He wouldn't be the only one to snap.

He leaned over and whispered, "You gotta hang in there till the end, okay? I know I ain't one to make demands, 'cause I ain't your dad or mom and you don't know me, but be tough, okay? We got one Ass Kicker out here, and she needs a friend, so be like your mom and stay strong. Your dad's...kind of a pussy, so be like her." He stroked her stomach then realized what he was doing and stopped. If she woke up to this, she'd probably smack him then demand to know what the hell he was doing. He didn't know himself. He was ordering around a tadpole, for fuck's sake. Hell, maybe she should smack him.

His hand left her stomach, he rolled over and closed his eyes, feeling ridiculous, but a little better about the spotting. He didn't know if the kid could hear him—probably not—but he tried. He tried, and maybe the kid did hear, and it'd listen. He hoped so, even if it was childish. He wanted this kid to be all right, wanted Carol to be all right, but for now all he could do was tend to the kid, and if talking to it helped then he'd clear his entire damn schedule for the next eight months and talk to the kid. Hell, he'd even try bribery. I'll teach you how to use the crossbow I wouldn't even let Carl touch, if you come out screaming and healthy. The thought nearly made him chuckle, but he remembered the last time a kid touched his crossbow, and the urge died in his throat. Maybe he'd make a bow for the kid, instead.

Carol opened her eyes when Daryl fell asleep, moving her hand to where his had been on her belly, and she smiled a little at his near inaudible words. No matter how fierce and ruthless he could be at times, Daryl Dixon was the biggest softie for babies. She rolled her head to the side to gaze at the man, and her smile widened a bit, a fervent hope blossoming in her chest, and she closed her eyes, reaching out so that her fingers barely brushed against the back of his shirt, and she fell into a deep sleep.

– – –

In the morning, Daryl woke to Carol's morning sickness, and he cringed at the sound. He sat down on the floor beside her with a glass of water, and when the waves of nausea finally left her empty, she accepted the glass of water and spit it out into the toilet, flushing it. She sat back and leaned against him, and he wasn't sure what to do, so he reached over and grasped her hand.

"You okay?"

She shook her head and closed her eyes. "Give me a minute, before we head out."

"Take your time."

They stayed sitting together until her stomach settled, Daryl checked outside for walkers, finding a few remained, but instead of dealing with them, he chucked the fish guts out the bedroom window. They dove for them, and he guided Carol from the house. He wrapped his arm around her back at how green she still looked, and they walked back toward home.


	15. Something Is Wrong

Rick and Michonne were about to send out a search party for the couple when they returned, Carol still looked ill, so Michonne escorted her to Denise, and Daryl assured Rick she and the kid were all right. He saw Tobin in the distance, and he knew he needed to make peace with the man, but he had weeks till her next appointment, so he'd think of what to say in that time.

"Why didn't you bring her back?" Rick inquired. "That's what you said you were goin' do when you stormed out of here."

"Things got...mixed up." He met his eyes. "She's all right, and so am I. Why the hell are you so pissed?"

"I'm not pissed. I just... I was worried." He stepped back. "Maggie was worried. She damn near went out to track you both down. I know Carol needs to do her own thing, but...there are people here who really need to see her and the baby safe."

"She ain't a dog, man. You can't keep her in a cage."

"I know. I don't want to. I just need you to...be there for her. Y'all are close, and she's had enough of me. I've had enough of me getting on her, to be honest, so it's you. Don't linger, but try and keep her within the walls, and if she wants to go for a walk or whatever the hell y'all did, go with her and take supplies."

He nodded. "We did just fine out there, Rick."

"Of course you did." He smirked. "You mind showerin'? You reek like fish."

Daryl snorted. "Shut the hell up."

Rick chuckled and walked back to the house with him, Michonne and Carol reached Denise's office, and Enid was in the middle of her studies. She had headphones on, listening to music on a CD player, and Michonne called to Denise. They waited about ten minutes before she came downstairs, looking like she'd just rolled out of bed, and her lips formed a line at the sight of Carol.

"Here." Denise sat her down and reached for the thermometer. "When did you get in?"

"A few minutes ago." Carol swallowed hard.

"Have you had any water or food in the past few minutes?"

"No. I couldn't keep anything down, so I told Daryl not to give me anything."

"Okay." She placed the thermometer under her tongue. "What all happened yesterday? Has she told you anything?"

"No." Michonne crossed her arms. "Daryl reeks like fish, though."

"Did you get into the water?" Denise asked Carol, who shook her head, and she felt her forehead. "She's a little warm."

"You think she's sick?"

"She could be." Denise wondered if the fish was cooked properly, or if it was something else she'd had that day. She knew Daryl wouldn't risk under cooking the fish and hurting the baby, not after he spent the entire morning a couple days ago asking about those oat cakes when she wanted to discuss the hospital run. She also knew Michonne didn't have any food to give Carol that wasn't bad or could affect her like this, so what was the problem?

The thermometer beeped, Denise checked it and saw she did have a fever, and Carol set her hand on her stomach, wondering what had happened to her stomach since last night. She woke up with dreadful morning sickness, she had to literally lean on Daryl most of the way home, and now even the thought of putting food near her mouth made her dry heave. She didn't remember this happening with Sophia, and she hadn't lost the baby. Had she? Maggie was burning up and weak before she lost her baby, so...was that what was happening now?

"Did Daryl give you anything to eat?"

"One of those cakes." She nearly puked at the thought of it. "Why?"

"Did you eat some of it before you ate the fish?"

"Yeah."

Denise smiled a little. "It's okay then. It's just...not settling right. It's happened to me before, when Aiden and Nick brought back a boar. I'd eaten one of the cakes for dinner, but Deanna insisted I eat some meat. Though mine chose a more...South exit."

Michonne chuckled. "Sorry." She couldn't stop though.

"So, it's not the baby?" Carol flattened her hand over her stomach. "It's not in danger?"

"You might be dehydrated, but I'll be here with you. I want you to stay here overnight, and I'll keep an eye on you. I'll also kick Daryl's ass, if you want me too."

A weak smile crossed her lips. "It wouldn't on Daryl, and I just want to lie down for a bit."

"You can take the guest bedroom." Denise set the thermometer down. "I made up the bed last night for Enid, because she keeps falling asleep here, but feel free to rest up there. Or down here in one of the rooms."

"I don't think that much movement will be good for my stomach. I'll stay down."

"I'll grab you a spare pillow then." Denise motioned for Michonne to show her to the beds with a kind smile and headed upstairs.

"You sure you're all right?" Michonne opened the door for Carol, who immediately lied down on the bed.

"I'm sure. I just need to sleep this off."

She nodded. "If you need anything or want anything, you know where to find us."

"Thank you." She slid a shaky hand down to her stomach once she was alone and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to calm herself and the ideas popping up in her head, and she swallowed another wave of queasiness.

––

Michonne stepped out of the clinic and found Maggie standing there. She frowned and approached the young woman, seeing worry etched onto her face, and she called to her to get her attention, which seemed to be locked on the floor.

"Are you all right?"

"It's late," she replied. "He's late."

"What's late?" She searched her eyes. "Glenn?"

"Yes. He and Spencer and Aaron should have been back by now. Their first week was the second week for Tara and Heath, and the week we took Carol to Harlan was the second week of their trip. It's been two days since, and I know it's not a big gap, but..." She crossed her arms protectively over her chest. "You know what happened last time. You were there. Things can always go bad."

"They can take care of themselves, Maggie. They probably ran into walkers or...a road block. We ran into a fallen tree when we were taking Carol to Hilltop, so it's not outside the realm of possibilities." She smiled softly. "He'll be back. Tomorrow or the next day, but he'll be back."

Tears filled her eyes, and she rubbed her arms. "Yeah, but it's not the same."

"What do you mean?"

"Us." She lifted her shoulders and let them fall. "He's distant...and so am I. I can't even be in the same room with him, we don't talk to each other more than necessary, and whenever we touch...even for that goodbye hug...it felt like something we were obligated to do as husband and wife, not as a couple who love each other and want to see each other again." Her voice was an airy whisper, and she couldn't keep the tears from showing.

"You lost your child, and you both carry unnecessary blame—"

"I know that," Maggie interjected, her voice breaking. "I know we blame ourselves for not doin' everythin' to keep the baby safe, to keep my body from overworkin' itself, but this isn't about the baby, Michonne. It is, but it's not."

"Okay." She guided Maggie over to the couch and sat her down. "What's going on between you two?"

"Nothin', like I said we barely even talk." She rubbed her hands together, snuffling, and she met her eyes. "And I'm scared I'm gonna lose him too."

"He'll come back."

"No, not by death." She lifted her hand to her mouth to keep from wailing, and tears rolled down her cheeks, and Michonne scooted closer, taking her other hand to transfer any strength she could offer to the young woman. "I meant as my husband."

"Implausible."

"No, it's not." She lowered her hand and wiped at her eyes. "Michonne, it's been weeks since we've been happy together. I haven't seen him laugh or crack a smile, and he never makes eye contact with me. It's like we're strangers, and we don't know how to act around each other.

"Even on the farm before we knew each other, he never avoided me. He was kind of a loser." She laughed in memory. "An adorable little geek who did whatever he was told, expect keep a damn secret."

Michonne smiled faintly at the first actual laugh Maggie had given since the miscarriage and squeezed her hand.

"He told me he didn't want me in danger, and he told me later that he loved me. It was the first time he'd told me that, and it was after we lost the farm, lost Jimmy and Patricia, and I didn't know if Daddy or Beth made it out." More tears sprung up in her eyes at the mention of her fallen family. "I wasn't okay with it just bein' us out there against all those things, you know? But now... after we lost the prison, I was okay with it just as long as I had him by my side. I don't...even have that now."

"He'll always love you, and he isn't going to leave you."

"If this continues, it won't matter how much we love each other." She gulped down another sob. "Everythin' we had is gone now. It left when we lost the baby, and I'm not sure we can get it back. I don't know how we're going to...find each other again, or if there's a chance for us anymore."

"You will. You and Glenn... It might take time, but you'll find each other and find that spark again. Don't give up."

"I couldn't give up on him."

Michonne grinned. "That's good, because he couldn't give up on you either."

She smiled feebly. "Thank you."

"It's no problem." She hugged her. "I'll go get you some tissues."

"I'm okay. I just need some time to myself."

"You sure?"

"Yeah." She released her and forced a smile. "Go. You have the wall today, and I need to use the bathroom."

"If you need to talk again, I'm here. Denise is here."

"I know."

Michonne ducked out for her shift, Maggie dragged herself to the bathroom, and she locked the door. She sat on the edge of the tub, her eyes falling on her wedding ring, and she bawled. She'd felt like she'd lost a limb or a torso. She'd lost so much already, and she couldn't handle the loss of her marriage. She loved Glenn so much. He was the best part of this world, and as long as she had him, she could endure any storm and any hell. She could survive losing the baby, but only if she had him by her side, only if they could work through it together, but they weren't. They weren't even talking, so how were they going to come back from this? How were they going to find that spark again? She had so many hows and not enough answers.

She buried her face in her hand and hoped this wasn't the beginning of her mourning the end of her marriage.

– – –

Tobin gazed out at the walls they were building, his crew moving around him, and he wiped the sweat from his brow, feeling another trickle down his spine. He wondered what it would look like when it was done. He wondered what it would look like in ten, fifteen years. He wondered what would become of this place once he and every other person he knew right now were gone. He wondered if this place would still be standing. He wondered if his child would be the next leader of the group or the next builder. He wondered so many things, and fear began to creep into his train of thought, a chill coursing down his spine now.

He didn't know what the future held, but he wanted Alexandria to be able to hold up against it. He wanted this town to stand tall and strong and never once waver, never once fall, not like the tower that had brought the wall crashing down. He would put his blood and sweat into building lasting walls, but there were endless options in the world. He didn't know what the future would bring, what villains would come across their gates, and he didn't want this place to be taken from the inside out or outside in. He didn't want his kid to be put in danger ever, so he—they needed to come up with a plan to secure the future. He knew Rick would be on board. He had a son and a baby daughter, so all that was needed now was a plan, an outline, and he could do that. He'd have to do it, if he wanted his son or daughter to be able to grow up in a town filled with good people, not moving from place to place with the group. That was no life, and he wouldn't let that happen to his kid.

He smiled a little to himself, wondering for a moment what his kid would be like. He couldn't imagine what he or she would look like, not knowing who it would favor. He didn't know much about genetics, but the kid would likely get his height, like he'd gotten his from his dad. He knew they'd have lighter eyes, as his were green and Carol's were blue. He hoped they got Carol's eyes. Her eyes were so beautiful and so sapphire, and he imagined a blonde little girl with soft curls and bright eyes smiling up at him. He figured Carol had curly by the way it fluffed up, and he chuckled at how adorable the little girl was.

Or it could be a boy. He remembered how he looked at five, and he hoped the kid was a little cuter than that. He wasn't an ugly kid, not at all, but he had messed up teeth and had to get braces when he was ten, and there were no braces to be had in this new world. He hoped the kid got Carol's teeth. She had an amazing smile, and boy or girl, they'd be lucky to share that same smile. His eyes or her smile or his hair or her nose, it didn't matter. He knew he'd think his child would be the most precious thing in the entire world, and he couldn't wait to meet him or her.

He pried off his glove and pulled the sonogram from his breast pocket, smiling at the little dot that was his child. Of all the mistakes he'd made in this new life, he wouldn't consider this kid to be one of them. It'd be his first kid, and probably his only kid, but still. Well, it wasn't just his; it was his and Carol's kid.

"You done daydreamin'?" Abe called to the man. "We got work to do, and even if we did pay, you ain't pretty enough to just stand there all day!"

Tobin rolled his eyes and slipped the picture back in his pocket, returning to work.

––

Morgan entered the clinic to find a bandage for his arm. He'd built a cell in the "prison" Rick had fashioned in the house where he'd kept the wolf, and he'd injured himself. He didn't want to trouble Denise, but he might have to. He didn't know where everything was, and it all seemed to have been moved around. It could have been a quiz for Enid, as he'd seen them together studying.

There was a clatter in the next room, he spun around, stick ready to attack, and he neared the door, pushing it open to find Carol on the floor, holding her stomach. He dropped to her side, hand on her back, and she was shaking.

"Are you all right?"

She had a layer of sweat coating her brow, dark circles under her eyes, her lips dried and cracked, and she was damn near alabaster. "No," she strained. "I—I think something's wrong—wrong with the baby."


	16. Death Closes All

"I'll get Denise," he said once he'd helped her onto the bed, and he hurried from the room, calling to the doctor, and he waited only a minute before she was running down the stairs at the alarm in his tone.

"What is it?" She saw the blood on his arm. "Are you okay?"

"It's not me. It's Carol. It's the baby."

She bolted to the back room, finding Carol coiled up on the mattress, shaking, and she dropped to her knees beside the bed, looking her over, but she couldn't see anything wrong. She tried to get Carol to explain her symptoms, but Carol's voice was a croak. She got her some water and was able to understand her better. She didn't know what would be wrong, so Denise asked Morgan to find Michonne and Sasha.

"What's going on?" Sasha was panting, having ran over from her shift, thinking something had happened to Abe, but her eyes instead fell to Carol. "Oh, shit."

"We need a car." Denise wiped the moisture from Carol's brow. "We have to get her to Harlan as soon as possible."

"I'll get a car." Sasha scrambled from the house, passing Michonne and filling her in.

"Morgan, give me a hand with her." Michonne collected a few bags in case Carol got sick on the trip. "Denise, I need you to stay here and tell Rick what happened."

"What about Tobin?" She watched Morgan carefully lift Carol up and off the bed. "Or Daryl?"

"I don't know. We don't have time to stand here and talk about this. We need to get her out of here and to Harlan's right now. I'm sorry." Michonne opened the front door for Morgan and hurried over to the car Sasha brought around. "Gently."

Morgan set her down in the backseat, moving to get in the passenger side, and Michonne didn't argue. She called to Eugene to open the gate, not bothering to tell him why, and Sasha sped out of Alexandria at top speed.

"How long has she been like that?" Sasha glanced back in the rear view mirror at the pale pregnant woman.

"I don't know. I only found her a few moments ago." Morgan peered back at her himself.

Michonne eased Carol back, allowing her to rest her head in her lap, and she set the cloth she'd gotten from the clinic on her brow, and Carol shuddered. Michonne swallowed hard, flashing back to Maggie, and she truly hoped this wasn't the same thing.

– – –

It was almost dawn when they saw the gates to Hilltop, Michonne called to the men on the wall, and Morgan carried Carol to the office, and he dismissed all of them, but Michonne. Sasha and Morgan sat outside his office, Morgan's weapon laid over his lap, and Sasha paced the length of the porch. They couldn't hear anything, which could be good or bad, and they waited.

Harlan asked for the entire story from Michonne, and she told him what Carol had told her. Carol was able to mention the couch and the walkers and the running and fish. He seemed particularly interested in that bit of information, and Michonne wondered why. He asked her a lot about the fish, about where it was caught, how it was prepared and how much of it she'd eaten. She couldn't answer every question, because she hadn't been there, but Michonne knew what she was talking about. She and Rick discussed that area, and she provided enough information for Harlan.

"Shit."

"What? What shit?" Michonne demanded.

"She could have food poisoning." He sighed. "There are...different forms, and the bacteria could cause multiple problems, some being premature birth or cause her to miscarry."

"Miscarry?" Carol tensed, eyes round and shimmering with moisture.

He nodded and explained it to her, Michonne stepped out to send Sasha and Morgan back to Alexandria to bring Daryl and Tobin, but Morgan declined. He wanted to stay there and look in on Carol once Harlan allowed her to have visitors, and Michonne couldn't just send Sasha back alone, so she would have to go with her. She fed Morgan the entire story of what happened with Carol and Daryl yesterday, so in case Carol was unconscious or couldn't recall, he had it.

"How could it be a danger to the baby?" Sasha unlocked the doors. "I mean it's not a good thing, pregnant or not, but...how bad could it get?"

"He said there's a bacteria that could cause her to miscarry."

"Son of a bitch."

"He has antibiotics and anything she might need, and what he doesn't have, I can grab from home." She slid around to the passenger side of the car. "I can't even imagine what Tobin must be going through."

"Or Daryl. That man's got a strong attraction to blaming himself for everything."

Michonne nodded. She hoped whatever Denise told them, it wasn't going to make them fly out of town to get to Hilltop. They might cross paths, so she'd keep her eye out for them.

––

Denise watched Morgan carry Carol from the house and stammered after them. She had no clue how she was going to tell Daryl or Tobin Carol was double over in sweat and found on the floor. She could tell Rick, but not them. Tobin would want to know everything, and she didn't know everything, and Daryl would be livid. He'd pace the room and fly out of town on his bike. He probably would the moment she said Carol was found on the floor, and it'd like a cartoon, a line of dust kicked up behind him as he dashed out.

"What is it so noisy?" Tara was on the stairs. "I need at least eight hours if I'm going to function at all tomorrow."

"Sorry. Enid...wanted to come and practice for her test," she lied. "I sent her back home to Olivia's."

"She's staying with Maggie," Tara corrected. "You're the one who told me that, and you're not the forgetful type. What's going on, Denise?"

"Honestly I have no clue what's going. Morgan's bleeding, Carol was on the floor, coated in sweat and saying something's wrong with the baby, and Michonne told me I have to tell Tobin and Daryl she's been taken to Hilltop. I have to tell Rick too, which I'm fine with. He won't run out or...have a breakdown."

"What?" She gasped and joined Denise by the door. "I'll go tell Rick. Tobin's crew is likely on their way back in, and Daryl's picked up a few shifts here and there. Let's just wait until they come home. We actually have to for Tobin, but we can't have Daryl roaming around in the middle of the night alone to Hilltop."

"Why can't I tell Rick?"

"Because you need to wait for Tobin."

"I'm the one who was told to tell these men, and we're wasting time debating. We'll just tell Rick now. He should be at home with his kids, and we'll find Daryl and Tobin later. Tobin should know, but honestly ignorance is bliss right now."

They departed the house to find Rick, Carl and Judith were on the porch with Enid, who had been studying, but stopped at how cute Judith and Carl were being. She laughed at them, her book lying to the side forgotten until she saw Denise then she snatched it up and pretended to be reading it. Denise told her it was fine, and they'd work on it tomorrow. They slipped by a wary Carl and found Rick and Abraham in the kitchen, and Tara wasn't sure if they were trying to prepare dinner or if they'd already tried and murdered it.

Rick felt the tension oozing out of the women and frowned. "What happened?"

"It's Carol," Denise answered. "She...may have lost the baby or is violently ill, or both."

"What?" Rick flited around the counter and over to them. "What the hell happened?"

"I don't know. Morgan found her on the floor, saying something was wrong with the baby, and she was feeling crummy this morning, but I assumed it was just food not settling properly. She mixed oats and fish, so I didn't think it was a big deal." She sighed. "Michonne and Sasha and Morgan are driving her to the Hilltop right now."

"Has anybody told Daryl?" Rick headed to the door. "Or Tobin?"

"No, Tobin's not back yet, and I don't know whose shift Daryl took. It might be Glenn's. It might be Spencer's. Hell, might be Aaron's." Tara shrugged her shoulders.

"I'll worry about tellin' Daryl and Tobin." Rick faced them. "Why don't you go and get some rest? It's on me now."

"I don't think I can sleep until I know she and the baby are all right." Denise stepped forward. "If Daryl goes to Hilltop, I'm going with him."

"You have Enid," Tara reminded her. "And you're our only doctor. Carol will be back eventually, and the wait's going to be killer, but we need you here."

She sighed, but knew her girlfriend was right. "Okay."

"What are you going to do?" Tara asked Rick.

"I'll find Tobin and Daryl, tell them together, and we'll get them to Hilltop. Tobin oughta be there, and Daryl ain't one to sit still when Carol's in danger." He strolled off the porch. "Carl, put Judy to bed soon, okay?"

"Okay, Dad." He pulled his sister back when she reached for her dad. "Not now, Judy. Dad has work to do."

"And so do I." Enid rose up off the porch. "I'm gonna crash at Maggie's, but I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah." He smiled. "Good luck on your test."

"Same to you." She sauntered off towards home. "Good night!"

He had Judith wave to her, and he called to Enid, taking his sister inside for her bed time. He had heard what happened with Carol, him and Enid both, and they decided to keep it on the down low. The less people knew about this, the less likely it was to get back to Maggie, who really didn't need to hear about this.

Rick found Daryl by the empty houses, rubbing a sore muscle, and he called to him, taking him to Tobin's. Daryl was hesitant to approach the house, but Rick said it was urgent, so he complied for his friend's sake. Rick told him and Tobin to sit, and Rick could sense how little they liked each other. There was a certain distain for the other in the room, and Rick hoped this didn't cause it to blow up. Hell, regardless it was going to blow up, because it was about the single most important person in their lives. For Daryl, that was Carol, and for Tobin, it was his baby.

Rick ducked his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I got some bad news."

"What is it?" Daryl shot off the couch. "Did somethin' happen on the wall? Or those Negan assholes?"

"No, it's about Carol."

Daryl's breathing noticeably halted, and any color in his drained away. "What about Carol?"

"Is she gone?" Tobin whispered, a quiver in his words.

"Morgan found her on the floor, sayin' she thought somethin' was wrong with the baby." He held a hand up to stop their questions. "He was very specific. She wasn't in pain. She wasn't bleedin'. She was just pale and sweaty. They took her to Hilltop, and I only just found out, but we'll get y'all out there."

"Y'all?" Tobin blinked. "Why does he have to come at all?"

"You better watch your tone," Daryl hissed.

"No, I'm genuinely curious to know what the hell you have to do with my child's well-being." Tobin was on his feet, looking down on Daryl, and Daryl glowered up at the man. "You do know it's my child, right? Carol's your friend, and I get being worried, but you don't have to be up her ass."

Daryl scoffed. "Me? I'm up her ass? You should really take a look in the mirror, asshole."

Rick intervened, moving his shoulder between them to physically separate the two. "We don't have time for this. We need both of you to get to Hilltop. Daryl and Carol were out yesterday, and he call tell Harlan what happened. That's why he's comin'. If you want the best chance for your kid, for Carol, to survive then you won't argue with Daryl comin'."

"Out?" Tobin narrowed his eyes. "Outside the wall?"

"Yeah, she needed some air, so we went for a walk." Daryl headed to the door. "Let's go. We're wastin' time here. I'll drive."

Rick wasn't going with the pair. He was needed here with Michonne and Sasha and Morgan out, plus Glenn's group, so he sent them on ahead. He hoped they didn't kill each other, but he couldn't afford to leave this place with such small fighting numbers. Most of these people could fight walkers, but they'd rather just live their lives as civilians. He couldn't blame them, so he'd stay and keep them safe should any threats arise. He hoped they returned with good news. He couldn't handle the news if it were to be anything else.

"Rick!" Maggie ran over, perturbation on her face, and she was panting. "I heard about what happened to Carol. I'm goin' to Hilltop."

"What?" Rick stepped back. "How did you find out?"

"That doesn't matter. I'm goin' with whoever else is headin' out." She scanned the area and saw a car. "Is that Daryl?"

"Yeah, he and Tobin are driving over to be with Carol."

"I'll go with them then." She swept her gaze back to him. "And you don't have to keep news like this hidden from me. I did lose my baby, but part of me is happy that Carol's baby is alive. It helps."

He nodded. "I just didn't want you to relive your loss."

"I don't need help relivin' it," she imparted. "All I gotta do is close my eyes, and it's there."

"You should run over before they head out." He gestured to the car. "Daryl brought a few guns, but I think the biggest worry is keepin' him and Tobin from rippin' into each other."

"I'll make sure those knuckleheads get to Hilltop in one piece." She smiled and jogged over to where Daryl was about to get in the car. "Hey."

"Maggie." He held the door and met her eyes, knowing instantly that she had found out. "You want in?"

"I do."

"Passenger seat's open." He nodded his head to the door. "We gotta wait on Tobin. I don't know what he's doin', but he better hurry the hell up."

Maggie moved around the car, Tobin rejoined them, and Daryl blew out of Alexandria. Maggie had buckled herself in and thankfully so. If they were to crash at this speed, they'd be thrown out the damn windshield. She couldn't know how fast Michonne or Sasha had driven Carol to Hilltop, but she had a feeling it was just like this.

Unfortunately the driving wasn't the worst experience Maggie was going to have in this car. She could feel the anticipation pouring off both men, and she knew one of them would channel it into picking a fight. Daryl was focused on driving in the dark, keeping his eyes on everything to prevent an accident, but Tobin was stewing. She wondered how long until he finished and erupted. She didn't know the beef between the two men, but she knew the woman behind it. Carol was close to Daryl, but not Tobin. She had only known him in a Biblical sense and gotten pregnant, and they had no bond, no real friendship aside from that. It wasn't hard to tell it was a one-sided relationship now that Maggie thought back. She was distracted by her own pregnancy and her plans with this town to really notice. She hardly ever saw Carol, come to think of it, before they were kidnapped. She should remedy that.

"Why were you and Carol outside of the wall?" Tobin's voice shattered the silence.

"You were outside the wall?" Maggie's brows shot up. "When?"

"Yesterday." He dodged a few walkers, not wanting to deal with their guts and whatnot on the windshield. They could also cause damage to the car. He wasn't in the mood to tolerate with it. He simply wanted to get to Hilltop and see what the hell was going on with the baby and with Carol. "I found out she'd slipped out, so I went after her."

"And you didn't bring her immediately back?" Tobin pressed.

"She didn't wanna go back, and I was with her. I kept her safe." He shot a glare through the rear view mirror at the man in the backseat. "We didn't have any real problems, just a couple walkers."

"When did you get back?" Maggie grasped the strap to her seat belt, her stomach flipping as the needle inched toward ninety.

"This mornin'. She had real bad mornin' sickness, so Denise looked at her. I had to take one of Spencer's shifts to make up for them leavin', and I wasn't able to check in on her."

"So nothin' happened while you were out." Maggie nodded in understanding.

"Well, not exactly." He made a sharp turn and slowed the car down a notch. "We had to run from the walkers, move a heavy ass couch to block the door, and she started bleedin'."

"Bleeding?" Tobin whispered. "Why?"

"It was just spottin'," he assured the two. "She said it was normal, happened to her with Sophia, and it stopped."

"Are you sure it was just spottin'?" Maggie had to remind herself to breathe at the flashbacks playing in her mind.

"She wouldn't lie to me."

"Were you with her the whole time?"

"No. She took a shower to get the blood off." He peeked at the young woman. "What, you think she miscarried? She didn't lied to me."

"I'm not sayin' she showered through losin' the baby," Maggie remarked, "but maybe there was more to this than she let on. You worry about her, and she knows that. She could have been trying to protect you."

Daryl shook his head.

"It's just a possibility. I'm not sayin' it's true."

"If she'd lost the baby," Tobin breathed, "wouldn't she have told me? It's our kid, so she would have told me."

Maggie glanced back at the ashen-faced man and exhaled. "I can't pretend to know Carol's thoughts if she were to ever lose the baby, or had she lost the baby, so don't ask me. For all we know she's just sick or somethin'."

"What could have gotten her sick?"

Daryl's grip on the wheel tightened, Maggie noticed it, but Tobin hadn't. Maggie knew then what must have happened while they were out, and she reached over and set her hand over his. She knew he was finding some way to blame himself, and she didn't want that. Shit happened, and sometimes it wasn't anybody's fault. Ironic that she couldn't believe that in the face of her own miscarriage, but it was easier to console other people through their losses and hard times than it was to console yourself.

––

They arrived at Hilltop and nearly collided with Sasha and Michonne, Michonne spoke to them through the window and decided to head back home, and Daryl pulled in. The trio fumbled out of the car and to Harlan's office. Morgan was sitting outside on the ground, Maggie didn't ask if she could enter she just did, and Daryl and Tobin followed.

On the monitor, the baby was there, and the trio halted in their haste. Harlan couldn't do more in-depth tests, so he would observe the baby and the mother, and he was just about to finish when Maggie, Daryl and another man came barreling into his office. They all seemed to calm at the sight of the small little dot on the screen, and he smiled at the sight of it. They were truly a family, and he was glad they'd come to see Carol through this. It could provide to be a trying time.

"Oh, my God." Maggie moved to be by Carol's side, tears brimming behind jade eyes, and she covered her mouth with her hand. Her other touched her own stomach, and she didn't feel as hollow and as bitter as she thought she would. She felt odd and somewhat agonized, but it was manageable. For now. It'd likely increase the longer she lingered.

"Is she okay?" Daryl stood beside Maggie. "And the kid?"

"For now, they're all right. Carol has food poisoning, which could prove lethal to the fetus, but I'm going to keep her here and hydrated and basically do my job." He smiled a little. "I'll do everything I can do ensure both mother and child get through this."

"So, for now, the baby's all right?" Maggie lowered her hand.

He nodded, his eyes moving to the gentlemen in the room. "This the first time Dad's seeing the baby?"

Carol nodded. "Yeah."

"Well, I hope to see more of you here." He turned his attention back to the screen. "And I will, because until Carol has gotten through this, I want her to stay here."

"For how long?" Daryl asked.

"For however long it takes. I have a few spare cots in here, so you're welcome to stay too. All of you, if you want." He ran his eyes over the three. "I can't say they're cushy or that you'll even be able to sleep on them, but they could always be worse."

"I don't care. I'm stayin'." Daryl dropped his hand onto the gurney, and it brushed against Carol's. "I'll sleep on the damn floor."

"I'll stay too." Maggie smiled at Carol. "Enid has her classes, and she's practically livin' with Denise and Tara, so I'm not needed there much."

"And you?" Harlan inquired at the tall man. "I'm guessing you're staying too?"

"Of course," Tobin replied. "It's—"

Carol broke out into a coughing fit, Daryl's fingers slipped around her wrist, and Maggie helped her sit up. She told them she was fine, just a little thirsty, and Harlan got her something to drink. Harlan then politely asked them to leave so he could get Carol changed. He wanted her to be as comfortable as possible, and she still wore the clothes from that cabin, which were wrinkled and stained with sweat. She changed into a clean top and pants, preparing herself to be stuck in this room for the next however many days and also preparing herself for what the end results would be.

Harlan wasn't even shocked when four people returned this time. He got the names Morgan and Tobin from the two men he hadn't met before, and Daryl and Maggie pulled out the cots. Daryl just tossed a blanket on the floor and moved over to where Carol was. Maggie headed to the main house to find a book to read, and Morgan decided to go back to Alexandria, to fill Rick and other in on their stay. He had wanted to stay and chat with Carol, but he could see she had plenty of support, plenty of people to converse with, and he didn't want to crowd them.

"You takin' the car?" Daryl called to him.

"I'll walk back."

"Are you sure?" Tobin frowned. "It's a long way to walk."

"I could use the silence and the air. Besides if I took the car, how would you get back to Alexandria once Carol and the baby are all right?" He smiled. "I'll be fine."

"I'll walk you to the gate." Tobin dropped the pillow he'd been given and escorted Morgan out to thank him for his quick actions to help Carol and the baby.

Daryl turned to face Carol, drinking her in and feeling his heart drop. She was paler than he'd ever seen her, dark circles emphasized against her pallor, and she had a constant trail of sweat on her brow. He didn't know if it was the heat or the food poisoning, but he grasped the little towel in the bowl beside her and tenderly wiped it away.

Guilt rooted itself in his chest as she weakly breathed, her eyes closed as she was trying to rest for the first time since their impromptu trip. He knew he should have taken her directly back to Alexandria. He knew he should have put his foot down and demanded she turn around for the sake of her health, and the health and survival of her baby. He shouldn't have thought it would okay to let her wander around outside the walls in that heat without proper supplies. He'd only brought enough to get her back within the safety of the gates. He hadn't planned their overnight stay, which was exactly why he should have steered her back towards home, not aided her in senselessly meandering.

He told Rick he would find her and bring her right back. It was his intention the moment he found Tobin's house locked and dark. He had been so pissed with her and with Abe for not keeping a closer eye on the comings and goings of the people, which his fucking job that day. He had planned on going off on him for being so goddamned reckless and letting a pregnant woman slip by him, but he had to get Carol back. He had been so worried. Anything could have happened to her, and there would have been nothing he could have done. He'd been so helpless with her what felt like so many times. He had to watch those bastards drag her off to Grady after they'd run her over like she wasn't easy to spot. Sure, she was small woman, but for fuck's sake, she was right there! He had to hear that bitch say they had a Carol and a Maggie and not know where the fuck they were to make them pay for ever even approaching his family, let alone kidnapping a pregnant woman and his best friend.

He had to live with her loss that awful fucking day at the prison. He had to mourn her and thought he had to take out the motherfucking walker version of her. He didn't know what was behind that door, be it her killer or her...as one of them, but he knew he couldn't let her be one of those things. He knew he couldn't leave her or it in there, so he did what he did and found her alive. She was small little thing, weakly blinking up at him, dehydrated, unable to speak or move, and he had been so grateful. It was a damn miracle, and he couldn't take his eyes off of her the entire walk back to the cell block. He'd never held anyone in his arms until that moment, save for Ass Kicker, and there was something...nice about holding her that close, feeling her warmth and breath on his chest, the way her head rested on his breast, her arm around his shoulders. He knew she trusted him, but the way she felt in his arms, the way she held onto him even in her weaken, starved, dehydrated state felt like he was her lifeline. He'd never felt so important to anyone until that moment. He knew he was an asset to the group, was a friend to Rick and Hershel, but to Carol, at least in that moment, he was the air and the sun and hope and life all wrapped into one. He never forgot the way she looked at him when he threw open that door.

And then there was that nightmare of a day when Rick came to him to tell him Carol had killed Karen and David. He couldn't believe a word Rick said about Carol, about who he thought she was, and he wanted to explode on him for even considering that she wasn't sorry, that she wasn't haunted by that decision, that it didn't fill her with agony when she killed them. In the end, Carol had done the merciful thing. He and the others were so delayed, they already had people dead in A, and Karen and David didn't have to choke on their own blood and die in a horrible way and be reborn as walkers. Carol did what she did for the group and out of mercy, just like when Tyreese killed Bob. He did it for Sasha and to keep Bob as Bob, not as one of those things. Rick didn't know her like Daryl knew her, and Daryl damn near decked him for what he said, and he would have had Rick not polished it off with her banishment. The wind was knocked out of him, and he had to lean over the railing to try and inhale, because it felt like part of him had been ripped away.

First it was Merle. Rick had left him handcuffed to a goddamn roof where walkers were overrunning the place. He just abandoned him without a backwards glance, and he did try to make it right, but by that time it was too late. Merle had done what he had to do and gotten off that roof. He was a tough son of a bitch, a simple minded piece of shit too, and he didn't blame Rick for it anymore. He understood it now, had perspective on it, but when he'd heard he'd done basically the same to Carol, he couldn't breathe. He'd gotten pissed the first time, tried to attack Rick, but this time, the second time, he couldn't inhale. Rick had been nicer about it this time, giving her a car and supplies and tearing into her instead of handcuffs and a soon to be overrun roof, but nevertheless it was still someone Daryl loved. His brother and then his best friend, and he got no say whatsoever either time.

And now here they were again. It wasn't walkers overrunning the prison; it wasn't a car hitting her; it wasn't assholes who pinned her and Maggie; it wasn't Rick telling him he'd banished Carol; it was him and her and fish he didn't properly prepare. It was him disobeying a command he'd given himself. It was him not doing his best to ensure she and the baby were okay. It was just him this time. Him. He swore to never hurt anybody he cared about, not like his old man, not like Merle with his sharp, thoughtless tongue, not like the assholes they'd encountered since the world ended. Yet he had. He didn't raise his voice or his hand or his weapon; he simply misused his abilities and under cooked a motherfucking fish. Or perhaps caught a fish that had something foul in it, something that contaminated it. He didn't know, but it was his doing. He'd supplied the fish, he had watched her devour it, and he'd offered her second helpings. Him.

His hand shook as he replaced the moist towel, gulping around the lump in his throat, his blood running cold. If she lost the baby today or tomorrow or the next day, it was his fault. He had been careless, allowing their travels to continue. He'd been the one to get dinner. He'd been the one. If she lost the baby...how could he ever expect her to forgive him? How could he ever forgive himself? Knowing all she'd lost and even witnessing the biggest loss of her life? He'd been there for Sophia, held her back, tried to sooth her, and while he wasn't there for the girls, he knew what it must have been like for her—though she said it'd been much worse, so perhaps he didn't understand—but this time it was his actions that would cause her unspeakable anguish. How could he be around her if that were to occur? She wouldn't want him around, and he couldn't blame her.

If she lost the baby, he'd be to blame and he'd lose her. He'd lost his best friend, part of...who he was now...and he'd lose her baby too. It wouldn't be the same as her and Tobin's loss, but how could he not mourn this loss? He already had plans for the little dot, already had a spot in his heart where it was worming itself in, very much like its mother, and he wasn't sure how he would survive it. He'd been heartbroken with the loss of Sophia, nearly crushed by the loss of Beth, and if he were to add this child to that list...there might not be any recovery.

– – –

Maggie wandered back to Carol's room, finding her alone and asleep, and she sat down on the floor with a book she'd found in the main house. She opened the front page and glanced at Carol for a moment. She rose and moved to sit on the floor beside Carol's bed, clearing her throat, and while it wasn't a children's book or anything interesting that a child or Carol might like to hear, but she might as well pass the hours reading to them. She'd read softly as to not wake Carol however.

She opened the cover and cleared her throat, reading the first line softly. She knew it was foolish, to be reading to a fetus that likely couldn't even hear her or understand anything she was saying, but it was pleasant. She had plans to read to her own baby while it was still in the womb, but she never got the chance. She didn't know if she and Glenn would make it long enough to try for another child, but she sincerely hoped so. She had so many stories she wanted to tell their baby—from both books and her life.

She would tell her baby all about her Aunt Beth. A strong, little songbird who did as she was told and fought her way back through clouds so dark and foreign. She could tell the baby of how good Beth was with Judith, how Beth had a way of opening people up, even if she had to bust out a pair of damn pliers to do it. She would tell the baby of how Beth found herself, her true self, after the world had ended, how she built this armor around her and while it did have its cracks, she did her best to fight through them. She'd ensure this baby knew how special and amazing and rare Beth was to their family and this world, an eternal burning light of hope and faith and beauty.

She would also tell the baby of Daddy. She would tell the baby how wise and kind its Grandfather had been. She would tell the baby of Annette and her birth mom, about all the things they taught on the farm and on life and people, even what they taught her on how to be fearlessly herself. She would do her best to make sure her future child learned the lessons she had learned, accepted themselves and found an inner peace. That was desperately needed in today's world. There rarely was outer peace, and the world was a cruel, unforgiving and cold place. She had seen the many sides it had to offer, and she could hope and pray her baby never had to endure all she and her family had. She and Glenn would teach them how to survive, how to persevere, and when to draw on that inner strength. Lord knew they'd need it if its life was anything like theirs.

She paused when Carol moaned softly, but she didn't wake. Maggie shifted onto her knees and heedfully felt her brow, feeling her fever was still there, and she sat back, gazing at her friend. She set the book down and grasped Carol's hand, moving her free hand to Carol's stomach. She bowed her head and despite having a rocky faith, she prayed. It was what Daddy did, what Beth would have done, and God couldn't always be kind with His plans for them, as she well knew. She prayed this baby would live, would draw its first breath and live a long, happy, healthy life. She wanted to this baby to see sunsets and sunrises, hear rain pinging off the roof, watch snow flutter to the ground, jump and crunch on fall leaves. She wanted to be there and watch this little child grow, and she prayed herself into nearly crying, because she would lose all faith and hope of her and Glenn repairing their relationship and trying again if if baby were to die before ever seeing its mother or feeling a warm summer's breeze or eating fresh fruit or finding love and starting a family of its own.

Carol rolled away from her, Maggie inhaled to calm herself, and she slowly removed her hand. "I've done my part," she whispered, "so you do yours, okay?" She snuffled. "God can only do so much, your mom can only do so much, so please...please just fight through this."

Her green eyes reddened as tears seared there, and she shivered, stroking Carol's stomach. "I wanna meet you. I wanna hold you and watch you grow. In fact, I need it, so don't go into any lights, okay? Don't—don't." She squeezed her eyes shut and bowed her head. "Please, don't."

– – –

Tobin got to see what Hilltop was like during the early hours, meeting a lot of people and even getting tips on how to tend to the wall. He liked it here. He wouldn't mind living here were he not so happy in Alexandria. He couldn't ask Carol to pull up stakes and stay here. He wanted to be close to their kid, so he'd remain in Alexandria. He doubted Hilltop took new people in just like that anyway.

He found himself heading back to Harlan's, and he discovered the room was empty, save for Carol who was stirring a cup of what he assumed was tea and having broth. He didn't know where or what kind of broth it was, but he doubted they'd do anything to harm her or the baby. He smiled as a greeting, one she automatically and weakly and also sloppily returned. He could see she still wasn't feeling too hot, and he wished there was more he could do.

"Did Harlan bring you lunch?" He gestured to the broth and tea.

"No, it was one of the women here. I didn't catch her name." She set the spoon down. "Daryl insisted I have his portion for lunch and dinner. He said he'd get his own food, but I made her give it to him anyway."

Tobin's brow twitched and his lips pressed together as he stiffly nodded. "How are you feeling?"

"Lousy." She stared at the honey liquid in the bowl and sighed. "I don't want to eat this, because I know I'll throw it back up, but...I can't afford not to."

"You don't know if you'll puke it up."

"I have evidence to the contrary." She drank the tea and glanced at him. "He'll be back to check on the baby in an hour or so. You...uh, do you want to be here for that?"

"Yeah! Yeah, of course." He smiled. "How is it looking? Has he done anything more?"

"Well, so far everything is okay as it can be under the circumstances." She set the cup down. "I don't know how long it'll last, but he's somewhat optimistic. It's only been a few hours though, so he's reluctant to say or do more."

He nodded. "Well, I'm here for whatever you need."

"Okay." She pulled out a smile. "Thanks."

"I am the father. I should do more to pull my weight around here."

Carol lowered her eyes and swallowed with difficulty, Tobin noticed and wondered if she'd be sick, but her stomach was moderately okay for now. He didn't know she was struggling with his eagerness to step up and be there for the baby. She was so used to doing it all alone. She had to check herself. She knew Daryl would force himself into any situation that involved her, because he cared, and they were friends; however, for a man like Tobin who didn't know her to offer his assistance and to be there and to support her felt bizarre. She doubted she'd ever truly adjust to it. She had the father slot filled with filth like Ed, so for Tobin to be here and be kind and supportive and show love for his child...was strange. She knew she'd have to erase her memories of Ed as a father to replace them with Tobin as a father, and she wasn't certain how that'd turn out. To be honest the only man who proved himself to be a good father was a man who wasn't a father or the father. He did more for her little girl in one day than Ed ever did in her entire twelve years of life, and she was forever grateful, despite the outcome.

"I'll let you eat," Tobin murmured. "I'll come back soon." He reached out and comfortingly squeezed her shoulder, leaving without another word.

He inhaled deeply outside the door and stuffed his hands into his pockets, deciding then and there that he needed to talk to Rick once they were back in Alexandria. The present was rocky as hell, so he'd do this best to preserve the future. He knew Francine's group had supplies—clothes, medicine, food, weaponry—but Aiden and Nick deemed it too high-risk to even approach it. They had the people and ammo take it on. He wouldn't just sit around anymore. He couldn't. He was going to be a father, so he was going to secure those goods to safeguard Alexandria. Besides with more food brought it, more could go to Carol to give her nutrients and strength and plump up the baby. Well, if this...wasn't the last stop.

– – –

"All right." Harlan smiled at Carol and Daryl who were waiting for him the next morning. He'd seen Maggie helping feed the older people, and he didn't know where Tobin was. He was a tall man but easy to lose sight of. He was kind of a plain Jane, only for a man so perhaps it was plain Joe? Eh, it was early for these thoughts. "How are you feeling?"

"A little better. I was able to keep my breakfast down."

"That's good." She looked a little shaky, but was regaining a bit of color. "How did you sleep?"

"Like a damn rock." Daryl smirked, and Carol rolled her eyes. "She didn't wake up once till lunch, and she was out all night."

"Good. You needed it." Harlan paused and met Daryl's gaze. "How did you know she slept through the night?"

His cheeks reflected a sheepish blush, and he scratched the back of his head to divert attention from his face. "I was up real late," he lied. "Tobin snores." That wasn't a lie. He was worse than Merle. Maggie threw a pillow over his face to try and shut him up. It didn't work. If it didn't creep him out to think about the two of them together, Daryl would wonder how the fuck Carol slept through the sound.

"Uh-huh." Harlan checked her temperature, seeing it was a low grade fever, and he began his normal check up routine with her. He had rolled up her shirt a bit when Tobin walked in with Maggie. "A crowd, huh?"

Maggie smiled and slipped by Daryl to stand by Carol's head. "Yeah. It's like we're all the father."

"Except it's not." Daryl smirked at Carol's teasing comment. "And honestly, Mag, you're the least qualified person in this room to be the biological father."

She smiled a little wider and set a hand on Carol's shoulder. "Have we missed anythin'?"

"Not yet." Harlan cleared his throat and steadied his hand, momentarily hoping there was still a living baby in there. "You ready?"

She nodded. "Yeah, I am."

"So I am," Tobin murmured.

Harlan blinked and his brows knitted together. "Wait a minute, you're—?" He stopped from finishing that question and shook his head. "Never mind."

"No, what?" Tobin requested. "You're what?"

"I—I just thought he," Harlan gestured with his finger at Daryl, "was the father."

Maggie winced at the expression the two men gave, and she dropped her gaze to the floor for a moment while it passed.

"Why?" Tobin folded his arms over his chest.

"H—he was just here for both appointments, and he asked me about a million questions about the baby and risks to its health and Carol's and so on. It just seemed like the questions an expectant father would ask, and I just assumed it was him." He couldn't maintain eye contact with the man anymore and felt a heat creep up the back of his neck, and he wanted to dig his own grave. He also assumed it because the man clearly had strong feelings for Carol, and he didn't hide it. Honestly he spent the whole damn night staying up to keep an eye on her, and the actual father...slept and snored through the night? He was no one to judge, but there was something odd about that.

"Well, he's not," Tobin pointedly stated.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...strike a nerve." He turned to Carol. "Let's check on the baby now."

"Here." Maggie moved between Daryl and Tobin, guiding Tobin toward Carol's head for the better view of the baby, and she shared a look with Daryl.

There was a moment of heart-stopping silence and searching, and if there was ever a time in history when there was collective skip of five hearts it happened yet again in that office. Harlan couldn't find the baby, but after what felt like an eternity, he was able to reveal the little dot they all knew as Carol—and Tobin's—baby. Maggie exhaled a small laugh, Tobin ducked his head to blink back tears that were forming at the thoughts building up in his head, and Daryl felt something compress his hand. He looked down and found it was Carol's hand, and he didn't know when she'd taken it, but he squeezed back. She didn't take her eyes off the screen, nevertheless he knew she felt it.

– – –

In total they spend a week up at Hilltop, Carol and the baby recovered and were given a clean bill of health along with new sonogram to take home with them. Maggie was keen to get back home, Tobin was ready to get back to work, and Daryl was just damn ecstatic to know Carol and the baby were all right—as they all were, of course.

Maggie said her goodbyes to Harlan and waited by the car. She couldn't wait to get home. She wanted to see Enid and her office and hopefully Glenn was back by now. She missed him and sorely wanted to see him. Hug him. She hadn't wanted to hug anybody so badly in her life. It was a good sign. She knew she still loved her husband, but now...it felt like it used to. Perhaps she was beginning to heal. With all the time spent here with Carol and the baby, reading to them now and then, watching the little thing on the screen...it did her broken heart some good. She was happy to be leaving, as it was in better shape than they'd all arrived.

Daryl started up the car, ready to get them back to Alexandria before nightfall, and he sighed. He and Tobin were doing even worse since Harlan's comment, so he was yearning to get back to Alexandria and the hell away from the grumpy, tall mass known as Tobin. Though he and Carol had gotten to just talk while they were here. She couldn't sleep some nights, and he waited to keep an eye on her, so they chatted. He would find her stroking her stomach more often than not, and he had to keep from smiling. She was so precious, so protective, and whenever he lingered on that, he felt...his heart race. Although it ached too, because she kept a mask up. One he wanted to rip off and destroy. Perhaps one day he would be able to.

Tobin and Carol walked to the car together, and he carried their luggage of now clean clothes. They hadn't said much over the past week, unless it involved the baby and how she was doing, and they weren't speaking now. It was a pleasant kind of silence, and Carol was grateful for it. She was tired, emotionally worn out, and she wanted to sleep in her own bed. She hoped she could. The only time she'd slept well was...that night with Daryl in the cabin...

"You want to ride up front?" Maggie rested her arms stacked on the top of car.

"Sure." Carol moved to the passenger seat. "Tobin, why don't you sit behind me? I can give you the leg room you probably didn't get on the way up."

He smiled. "Okay."

They had learned to keep Tobin and Daryl apart, even if it was just one seat back, but it did keep the peace. They all loaded into the car, Carol buckled herself in, and Daryl smiled at the action, pulling out. His smile widened when her hands moved to her stomach, and he remembered their talk from last night.

"I'm sorry," she whispered in the darkness. "I'm so sorry."

"What for?" He frowned.

"For being so goddamn reckless." She snuffled. "I shouldn't have left Alexandria. I shouldn't have put you in that position. You or the baby."

"You just needed to get out for a bit," he argued.

"I'm pregnant, Daryl," she softly chided, mostly directed at herself. "I can't afford to be so selfish. You were right. What you said to me when you first caught me was correct. I was being careless, and I can't do that anymore."

"The kid's fine, you know."

She lifted her head. "Do you know?"

His frown deepened. "What do you mean?"

"We can leave tomorrow. I've recovered, and Harlan doesn't believe the baby is in danger anymore." She searched his eyes with the light the moon provided. "We're okay, Daryl."

"I know."

"You don't have to blame yourself for this. It wasn't your fault. You caught us dinner, that's all. You wouldn't have had to do it if I had stayed inside Alexandria. The blame is ultimately mine."

"I shoulda been more careful," he ground out. "I shoulda made sure the fish was safe, that it was cooked properly. I should have...been better. If I had, you would—"

"Daryl, don't. It wasn't your fault. It never was. Stop blaming yourself for things that are out of your hands. I know you want to place the responsibility and thoughtlessness at your feet, but it's mine to bear. You have to know that." She scooted closer to him. "Please don't think anyone blames you."

He chewed on his bottom lip silently and nodded. "I'll try."

She nodded back. "Try real hard then, because this wasn't on you."

"Okay."

"Thank you for keeping me company." She gently knocked her arm against his, and he chuckled softly. "I'm going to try and get some rest."

"I'll be right here."

She stood up and looked down at him. "I know."

––

Glenn told Sasha to open the gate. "I'm going to Hilltop. It's been days, and you don't know if she's all right? Any of them? I'm going."

"Glenn, they'll be back." Michonne tried to stop him. "Maggie wasn't in danger."

"Yeah, but Carol was!" He whirled around. "I need to know she's okay. I need to know her... I just need to know, Michonne."

"I understand. I get it, but you need to calm down. Going out there right now in your mindset isn't going to help anybody. You need to cool off."

He wracked a hand through his hair. "Okay."

A sound caught his attention, Daryl drove inside, and Glenn smiled at the sight of them. Maggie nearly tumbled out and fell on her face trying to get to him, and she embraced him tightly. Michonne grinned at the sight, Daryl nodded to her to let her know it was all good, and Abraham hollered down at them to close the damn gate.

"Your boyfriend needs to calm his ass down," Daryl joked.

Sasha smirked. "You go right ahead and tell him."

He returned her smirk and headed to pull the car around, peeking at Carol who had pulled Tobin aside to speak with him. He nibbled on his bottom lip as they spoke and averted his gaze to get back to his task.

"I just wanted to apologize."

Tobin met her eyes. "For what?"

"For my...hasty and selfish actions," she answered. "I shouldn't have gone outside the wall, with or without Daryl, and I'm sorry for putting the baby at risk. I assure you it won't happen again. I don't want to go through what I went through this past week, what I put all of us through, and I'm sorry."

"It's okay." He placed a hand on her shoulder. "I got to see the baby for the first time, and I made a decision while we were up there."

"What decision?"

"It's nothing to concern yourself with, really." He smiled kindly. "Why don't you get some rest? You look pretty bushed."

"It's been a long week." She subconsciously stroked her stomach. "Thank you for not making a big deal out of Harlan's mistake. I'm sure he thought Rick was the father too at one point."

"Yeah, it was a little...awkward at first, but it's okay. And, hey, he knows now."

"Yeah." She heard Rick calling to her, and she looked back. "I should talk to him and Denise, let them know we're okay."

"I should see how much work Abe has for me."

"A lot," Abe called from the wall.

"I better get to work then." He chuckled and skirted off.

Carol smiled down at her stomach and turned to talk to Rick. She definitely wouldn't doing anything else to imperil the baby. She had warned Maggie before they were kidnapped, and she couldn't make the same choices. There were risks, and she knew the cost, so...she'd get through her shit within the walls. Well, she'd try her best anyway.


	17. Collision

"It was so strange," Maggie admitted, scratching her throat before letting her hand fall to her lap, the shadow of a smile playing on her lips. "I've only ever seen mine, so seein' her baby on the screen...was both torment and amazin'."

Glenn sat across from her on the bed. "I can understand what you mean."

"But it was more amazin' than it hurt." The shadow grow as her lips formed the smallest smile. "It was smaller than ours, but it was right there. It's alive and strong."

He swallowed hard. "So everything's all right? With the baby?"

"Yeah. Harlan nearly killed himself to prove that." She twisted her wedding ring on her finger. "Glenn?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry? Sorry for what?" His lips were downward in a frown.

"For what happened to us, to our baby." Tears filled her eyes, and she lifted her head. "I should have been more careful. I shouldn't have gone on that run to fulfil our agreement with Hilltop. I shouldn't have pushed myself that hard. I'm sorry."

"Maggie." He reached out and his hand fell to her knee. "It wasn't your fault. You were just fighting to protect our future, to secure this deal and feed our people. It was what we were all doing. It wasn't anybody's fault."

"But yours?" Maggie shuddered. "I know you blame yourself. I can see it 'cause it's the same expression on my face every day when I look in the mirror."

He lowered his head. "There were so many things I could have done to prevent what happened."

"You just said it wasn't anybody's fault."

"I know, and it's not. We had no control over the miscarriage, but the events leading up to it... I could have done so much." His eyes reflected hers with silvery tears. "I can think of twenty things I could have tried to change what happened, and what hurts the most is not knowing if it would have changed anything, would have saved our baby. God, Maggie..." He inhaled roughly, the sound cutting his throat, and his shoulders began to shake.

She watched that tremble in his shoulders course through his body, the wall he'd built around himself after the loss of their baby crashing down like a tower with one greatly needed brick taken away, and he fell forward to bury his face in her stomach. She jolted at the contact, his hands on her sides, and she shivered as his sobs tore through him and infected her. She set her hand on his shoulder, the other curling through his hair, and she kissed his temple, burying her face in the crock of his neck. Her tears slid down either side of his neck, her grip tightening on his shoulder, and for the first time in weeks they truly mourned together.

The light-haired little baby who's looks favored the father, running around and making a mess. Maggie had wanted a boy, one as honorable and kind and forgiving and human as his father. She watched all of her dreams of that sweet little angel die at Hilltop, but when she was there with Carol and Tobin and Daryl, she saw that little spot on the screen. She saw life growing and clinging on through illness. The faded image of the little boy in shorts and a t-shirt, sloshing around in puddles and running from his daddy, screaming playfully when Glenn scooped him up, began to reappear with a fresh burst of color and laughter. She saw her little boy and Glenn, and they were out of reach, but she knew given time...perhaps the distance could be closed.

Glenn's lungs burned at the sobs that accumulated there, his tears falling profusely and seem to have no end, and he tightened his grip on her shirt. He knew there had to be a cost for everything, but he never imagined the cost would be their child. He had so many plans for them and the baby, and he wanted to do his best to honor his and Maggie's roots, to honor Hershel and the meaning of the watch, and he thought he'd lost his chance. He thought he'd lost everything, Maggie included, but for the first time in weeks the only loss his heart felt was the loss of their baby. He didn't care if they had a girl or a boy, whether he'd be tying back frizzy brown hair or braiding it—he had a feeling his kid would take Daryl and Carl's lack of haircuts as a style and refuse to cut their hair ever, and he was prepared to do whatever to keep it out of his or her eyes. He was prepared to do whatever he had to, but he didn't get the chance. Their baby was gone.

When he heard Carol was pregnant, he felt like the world and its cruel forces were mocking him, but he didn't feel that way right now. Perhaps he no longer felt that way. He knew the burden of losing a child, as Carol well knew too, and he knew what thoughts and anxieties must be brewing in her mind and in her heart. He also felt some arising in his own, and he realized that maybe it was going to be okay. Maybe this was a lesson they had to learn, and not all lessons come easy or gently, and he hated that this one wasn't in the shadow of gentle or easy. He loathed it, but he had to accept it and learn whatever the hell there was to learn from it. He didn't know what there was to learn, because the weight of the lesson was killing him.

He hoped when they tried again, the outcome would be better. He knew the agony of losing a child, but he knew the joy and the overflowing light of knowing what's like to have made a child, to see that little baby on the screen, and he could only hope he knew that feeling again and not as a distant memory.

– – –

Carol sat on the porch, the wind blowing at the cardigan and dress she wore, and she fingered the soft yarn in the basket Michonne had given her a while ago. She was tempted to make something out of it, but she wasn't sure what she could make. She didn't know what the future would hold, her death or the baby's, so perhaps she could craft a memento. She could make it for her baby if she didn't survive labor, something crafted out of love and to be there in her absence, to wrap around the small life she'd left behind and keep it warm and safe. A mother's embrace in the form of a blanket.

Or maybe she could just make a beanie or sweater for Michonne. She smiled a little. Or a beanie for Daryl and his ever growing locks.

"You must be feeling better."

Her eyes lifted from the yarn to Morgan. "I'm healthy again."

He stepped toward her. "You look healthy."

She pulled her hand from the basket. "What are you doing here?"

"I was just taking a walk. I heard you all came home last night. I wanted to make sure you were all right with my own two eyes."

"And?"

"Well, your health wasn't in question anymore." He ran his eyes over her. "How do you feel?"

"I told you already. I'm h—"

"You know that wasn't what I was asking," he softly interjected. "How do you feel?"

"I can't discern one emotion from the other," she confessed. "It's all a knotted haze, and I'm trying to work through it. To say it's not simple is a vast understatement."

"I'm here, if you ever want to talk."

"I doubt you want to hear what I have to say." She stood up. "It's not the same as you and your son. I've been there and done that already. What I'm struggling with now...nobody here can understand."

"Let me try."

"Why? Why do you care so much about me?" She came off the steps and closed in on him. "You don't even know me."

"I know what it's like to be at the end of your rope. I lived there for so long, and it nearly got me killed. I don't want that to happen to you, especially now."

"I'm not you, Morgan. I think and cope in entirely different ways than you."

"Well, that's where you're wrong." He leaned down toward her. "You're not coping, Carol. You just said you were struggling, and I can see that."

"Your stick and morning poses won't help me," she stated, very matter-of-fact. "Stop trying to help me."

"I won't."

She crossed her arms. "And why not?"

"Because if I can come back from my violent edge, you can come back from yours. The roads are different and the pain too, but that doesn't mean you can't overcome." He took a step back. "When you're ready to try, I'll be here."

She watched him walk away, the wind whipping up and rustling through her hair, and she crossed her arms. She wondered if she'd ever take him up on that offer, though to be honest she wasn't sure she had an answer for that question just yet. She'd sit on it, and perhaps while she sat on it, she'd crochet. It wasn't as though she had much else to do, after all.

––

Tobin spoke with Rick on his idea to gather the supplies left behind at Francine's old camp, showing him the location and the rough outline of where the supplies were from Francine herself. Tobin had spent a long time looking it over, remembering how she described it, and he knew he could do this. He could handle a few walkers, and he'd have a small group with them. They'd be fine. He was sure of it. He could feel in his bones that he could do this, and he wanted to. For the group, for their future, for his child.

Rick rubbed his jaw. "I don't know. It seems a little risky." He gazed at the man beside him. "And for all we know the other surviving members of her camp might have gone back and taken 'em a long time ago."

"There were no others. She guided those who survived here, and it's been left abandoned since." He gestured to the map. "It's been long enough that the walkers could have moved on."

"And maybe some other group took it over, patched up the holes," Rick theorized.

"Or maybe there's still supplies just going to waste there," Tobin pressed. "I won't deny it's incredibly precarious, but it's worth the risk. They even had the equipment Denise is looking for, along with medicine and canned goods."

Rick shook his head. "I can't agree to this. It sounds good on paper, but I'd need to see the area now. It could be picked clean or even more overrun with walkers. We can't blindly walk into this."

"So I'll take a few guys down there to look it over."

"No, no. I'll send Glenn, maybe Daryl or Michonne. They're better at gettin' in and out without bein' noticed. I don't want to put anyone in harm's way, so I'll talk to 'em tonight. If it all checks out, I'll send you and your men in."

"I can do this," Tobin urged. "I don't need Daryl's help."

Rick met his eyes. "Tobin, I know you aren't too fond of Daryl, and I know he ain't fond of you, but if you want to see your kid be born then you need to trust me on this. You want to help us survive, and I respect that, but you're new to this. Let us handle the recon."

"Then send Glenn in. He's likely to draw less attention than the man with a loud ass motorcycle."

Rick chuckled at that fact. "All right. I'll talk to him later. He and Maggie are in the middle of having a much needed talk."

He nodded. "Thank you, Rick."

"It's a good proposal. Now let's see how it plays out."

"Right."

– – –

Tara had heard of Tobin's run to Francine's old camp the next morning when she and Denise began to plan the hospital run with Daryl. She didn't like how sketchy it sounded, and she couldn't believe Rick was even considering it. It was a gray area. None of them had ever been there, and Francine hadn't been there in months. It could prove to be more fatal than helpful.

"I think it's stupid." Daryl crossed out a hospital he knew was overrun. "He's just gonna get himself killed. When Glenn checks it out, he'll tell Rick it ain't safe, and this dumb ass idea will die."

"Do you think it's dumb because it's Tobin's idea?" Denise continuing listing the items they'd need. She was separating them into groups. She and Daryl were going for the equipment while Glenn and his group would go for meds and the other groups would go for whatever else she could think of. She hadn't given it much thought lately with Enid's classes and Carol's baby. She was only semi-focused right now.

"No, it's dumb because it is." He wasn't petty enough to dismiss an idea that could benefit the group due to not liking someone. "It's just gonna get him and everyone else who goes with him killed."

"I'm with Daryl." Tara worked the list of supplies they'd need for the trip to the hospital. She had food pulled off the shelves, water bottled, and it was all in the upstairs guest bedroom. She'd labelled it and gone over it with Olivia, and they were good. She was now working on which cars to take. "It's just not a good plan."

"Well, there's nothin' we can do about it," Daryl grumbled. "It's up to Glenn and Rick. Tobin doesn't want me anywhere near this."

"Yeah, he doesn't like you very much." Denise crossed out the line she'd just written. Hell, her handwriting wasn't that of a doctor's, but that line was impossible for her to read.

"The feelin' mutual." He ran his eyes over the roads to the chosen hospital and crossed out one where he and Rick had seen a big flow of walkers. "He's a hypocritical asshole."

"Is someone jealous?" Tara teased, peeking at the man beside her.

"Of what?" Daryl lifted his head from the map and found both woman staring at him like he had to be joking, and he leaned back. "Why are y'all lookin' at me like that for?"

"No reason." Tara cleared her throat. "I was only teasing before."

Denise glided her finger back and forth down a viable road for them to take. "This one can work."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, Tara and Heath drove back on this road."

"All right."

Tara and Denise exchanged a glance, Daryl noted it, but he didn't say anything. He wanted to focus on this run, not Tobin, not his mistake of a plan, not Glenn leaving tonight to check it out. He just wanted to put it out of his mind, and he hoped this worked, because if he kept thinking on it, he'd eventually find Tobin and demand to know why he thought this was a good idea. He couldn't do that. Tobin had been through a lot this past week, as had Carol, and he didn't want to blew up on the man. They might come to blows, and he couldn't add that to Carol's plate. He'd just swallow it and wait for Glenn to give the thumbs down. It'd be forgotten, and that'd be that.

"How's Carol today?" Tara stretched in her seat.

"She's good. She was able to eat breakfast without gaggin', though she still has mornin' sickness, so it didn't last long. She got some fresh air afterward, and I think she's at home."

"Fresh air?" Denise paused in writing. "Inside the walls, right?"

"Yeah. She walked through the garden. I was on the wall, so I saw her."

"Daryl," Tara tried not to laugh, "the garden's the opposite way of where you're supposed to look."

He shot her a glare. "I was on my way up. Sasha was up there too with me."

"Right." Tara smirked. "How was Sasha?"

"All right, I guess." He shrugged. "Why?"

"Just curious."

"I think we should get Aaron and Michonne," Daryl changed the subject, oblivious to the smirking women on either side of him. "Michonne could lead the group gettin' the meds, and Aaron lead the other group while the three of us plus Abe are grabbin' the equipment."

"That's a good idea. I was actually talking to Aaron about this when he and Glenn and Spencer got back," Denise remarked. "Eugene and Rick are going to handle the factory with a few others from construction."

"Why Rick? Does he know a lot about bullets?" Tara tilted her head to the side in thought. "I mean, he's shot a lot, but...I don't think that counts."

Denise smiled at her girlfriend. "Rick's just there to oversee things."

"Ah, okay." She narrowed her eyes. "Can we get Glenn then? He'd be great for this run. He's fast, smart, and he's pretty strong for a small-looking dude."

"That's a good idea. Daryl, why don't you talk to him? We'll finish this up, run it by Rick, and we'll nail down a date once Glenn gives us his decision?"

"Why me?"

"Because your job's done." Tara gestured to the map. "And I have to help Denise dumb down her lists. Seriously, what the hell is that word?"

Daryl snorted a laugh at the glare Denise shot Tara, and he departed the clinic to find Glenn a moment later, not wanting to get caught up in their fight or the sappy moment they were about to have. He'd rather just find Glenn and see if he was in or out. He hoped he caught him before he left to check out that shitty little camp. He knew it'd take him a while to get there, possibly a day to and from, and he didn't want to wait that long. Granted their run wasn't for a while, but he wanted to pin this down, especially after what occurred with Carol and her baby. He wanted to know they would be all right and not have to risk the trip to Harlan's every time they weren't sure. They needed this equipment. She needed it.

He halted on his way to Glenn and Maggie's house at the sight of Carol on the porch. He hadn't seen her since breakfast, and he was tempted to approach her. She was only knitting, or crocheting, or whatever else you could do with yarn that he didn't have grandparents to teach him about. She looked so serene, the wind blowing through her short hairs and at her clothes. She looked really good, a healthy flush of color on her cheeks, and he was breathless at the sight of her.

Glenn exited his house to invite Carol over for dinner and spotted Daryl standing in the middle of the road, staring at something. He came off the steps and discovered it was the woman he was looking for. His eyes moved from her to Daryl and back, and he couldn't help but smile. He remembered watching Maggie through Shane's binoculars, and he hoped to God he wasn't that obvious about it, because this was just plain sad. Though he had to admit it was also kind of sweet, almost adorable given it was Daryl. What the hell happened between those two? Or at least to him? Glenn wondered.

"Hey, man." Glenn slapped a hand on Daryl's shoulder to get his attention. "What are you looking at?"

"What?" Daryl's ears burned, and he spun away from Carol. "Nothin', just lost in my thoughts."

"So you weren't staring at Carol?" Glenn folded his arms over his chest.

"No, I was lookin' for you."

"I know me and Carol have nearly the same hair length, but black and silver aren't the same. I know it's hard to tell us apart, but let me give you a hand." He gestured to Carol. "She's a small white woman." Then to himself. "I'm a small Korean man."

Daryl glowered. "I know."

"Just giving you a hand." Glenn tried not to laugh at the look brewing in those guarded blue eyes. "I have brown eyes. She has blue."

"I know."

Glenn quickly threw out, "She's looking beautiful today, and I'm looking all right."

"I know!" Daryl then processed what Glenn had said and his cheeks burned. "Shut the hell up."

"Hey, you agreed with me." He held his hands up. "What did you want to see me for?"

"The hospital run." He rubbed at the base of his neck to try and ease the embarrassment of what he'd just agree with, even if it was true. "You wanna come with us?"

"How many people are already going?"

"Each group has about four people, and there's three groups for now. It's a big run, but we need this stuff."

He sucked air in through his teeth. "All right. Let me think about it."

"It's not for a while."

He nodded. "I just want to be here for Maggie. I already have Tobin's run, and I just...want to be here for a time."

"I get it, so let us know, one way or the other."

"I will." He pointed to Carol. "If you'll excuse me, I have to speak to Carol, but I'll let her know you think she looks beautiful today."

Daryl's flush returned in full force as Glenn strolled off, and he wanted to tackle him to the ground to prevent him from doing that, but he knew Glenn was just messing with him. That was what Glenn did sometimes. He hadn't seen him like that in a while, and it was refreshing. It was a good sign, and he really fucking hoped the kid didn't mean it.

Carol raised her head at someone approaching her, and she saw it was Glenn. He looked better, his skin not so pale, the bags under his eyes had lessened, and he didn't look like a dead man walking. He greeted her with a small smile and sat beside her, rubbing his hands together and exhaling.

"I heard about the food poisoning." He peered at her. "You're better now?"

"I am."

"That's good." He meant it. "I was...terrified when Michonne told me what happened. I was out of my mind with fright at the thought of what could be happening to you and to...your baby. I'm so glad you're all right."

"How are you?" She rested her hands in her lap and studied him.

"I can't say I'm completely better, but I'm...better than I was yesterday." His smile returned. "Maggie and I talked a lot last night. We...cried a lot too, but it felt good in a way. I think it's the first time we've actually talked about the baby and miscarriage together, mourned it together, and it still...hurts, but I feel like we've gotten some of who we were before as a couple back. I think the rest of it has to be rebuilt, but I know we can do it."

She smiled. "If anyone can, it's you two."

"Thanks."

"I mean it."

He nodded. "So, I have a question for you."

"What kind of question?"

"It's just about your dinner plans. Maggie and I would like to have you over."

"Are you sure?"

"We're sure."

She reached over and set her hand over his. "Then dinner sounds great."

His smile widened. "Okay. We'll see you then."

––

That night Carol strolled through Alexandria after her meal with Glenn and Maggie. She could see their relationship was healing, as were they, and she was happy for them. It clung onto her through the dark roots in her chest, along with her and the baby's recovery, defying the dark roots of her actions. She knew they'd fade out, but for now they were there, and she wasn't drowning. She didn't have to hide in the darkness of night, and she didn't have to pretend; she could simply be herself, whoever the hell that was anymore.

She found herself outside the empty houses and entered the one she'd been in the last week, fighting off another of many yawns. She was tired, too tired to walk all the way back home, so she found a spare blanket and lied down on the couch in the living room. She ditched her shoes on the floor by the couch, and she curled up with one of the pillows. She had a full day, and she was ready for sleep. Or what little of she got.

– – –

The following morning had been hell, as Daryl didn't realize when Glenn said his run with Tobin he meant the run had been confirmed. He assumed it meant checking the place out, but that wasn't the case. It would seem they were actually going through this suicide run. Daryl tried to talk Rick out of it, but Rick said Tobin wouldn't budge. He was dead set on seeing this through, and Glenn didn't think it'd be much of a challenge when he looked it over. Daryl didn't even know when the hell Glenn had gone, but he knew he needed to stop this right now.

"Tobin." Daryl caught up to him, spotting the men he was taking him on this ill-advised run. "You shouldn't do this."

"Do what?" He didn't bother to look at Daryl, just kept his gaze forward. "This run?"

"Yeah, it's stupid. You're gonna get yourselves killed."

Tobin scoffed and shook his head. "We can handle ourselves. We may not be as experienced as you, but we'll be fine. We're prepared, and we know what to expect."

"No, you don't." Daryl stepped into his path, effectively halting the man, and he met Tobin's eyes. "You can never know what to expect out there. All you know is sooner or later you gotta run. That's it. That's all you can be sure of."

He rolled his eyes. "Thanks for the tip, but we all already learned how to run when we were kids."

Daryl glared. "It ain't gonna be easy. You're gonna lose a lotta people if you ain't careful, which you're not. You don't even know the area. Hell, we don't know it either. It's been unexplored since walkers took it over. The hell knows who else is there? You should call this off. Even Francine thinks this is insane."

"I've spoken to her, and she has some reservations about it, but it was her old camp. It's understandable. It must felt like plundering what is to her a graveyard. And why should I call this off? So you can go? You and Michonne and Rick can go in there and secure everything for us?" He folded his arms over his chest, the left side of his mouth curled upward, and he sighed exasperatedly. "We found this place, and we'll go in there and clear it out. We've thought this through, planned it out. We'll be fine."

"Plans don't mean shit," Daryl informed him. "You can have a solid plan and still lose everybody. The odds that are stacked against you—against all of us—are ridiculous. Man, just drop this. It's a suicide run."

"Did Carol put you up to this?"

"No, she didn't. I haven't spoken to her today. She's probably still asleep. I think the kid's been wearin' her out lately." His lips tugged upward slight in a fond smile of how she looked yesterday, one that wasn't lost on Tobin. "And speakin' of the kid—your kid—you can't afford to be this stupid. You're gonna be a dad, so you need to call this off."

Tobin snapped. "You're damned right it's my kid. It's not yours, and if I were to die today, it'd never be your kid! Don't act like you have some claim to this kid simply because you and Carol are close friends. I let it go the first time, when she first went to see Harlan, because I knew strength in numbers could only ensure a safe arrival, but now? Now, I want you to know it's my child in her, not yours, all right?"

Daryl snorted a scoff. "You think I'm tryin' move in on your place as father to your kid?"

"Yeah, I do. I don't what kind of puppy dog crush you have on her, but I'd like you to keep it in your pants. At least until my kid is born then you're free to go for it."

"Don't talk about her like she's some of ride," Daryl growled.

"I'm not."

"You can be as much an ass as you like to anyone, but not her, understood? I don't care who the father is of that kid—it's her kid too, and I'll be involved. You can count on that." Daryl lost the sharp edge to his words to try and sway Tobin once more. "I get it's your kid, and I am around a lot. Harlan made a mistake, and he knows now who the father is. We all know who the father is, but don't you dare go on this run, knowing you're the father, and say it's for the good of the kid. If you go through with this, it won't matter who the father is, because the kid won't know. He or she won't know you as their father, or hell even as a person, only we will."

Tobin averted his eyes and attempted to stay annoyed, but he knew Daryl cared. It wasn't that he cared for Tobin, no. It was that he wanted Carol's baby to know its father. Daryl was a good man, but Tobin had to do this. He had to, so he had to get Daryl off his back the only way he knew how. He might walk away with a bloody lip, but so be it. "Don't forget it's my kid too, and I'm not sure I want you around him or her."

"That ain't up to you."

"Yeah, it's up to the flighty mother. Let's hope she doesn't take off again and leave our kid behind, because you'll never see him or her if I have any say. You're a terrible role model. You gut animals on the front porch for all to see, and that's horrifying for a child. I don't want my kid to be...like that. I don't want to them accustom to gore and blood, not like Carl." He amended, "Carl's a good kid, but there's something more to him, something dark, that I don't want my kid to have."

Daryl didn't hear a word after take off again, and he glanced over Tobin's shoulder toward the house where Carol should be sleeping in her bedroom. She left again? She actually made it out and away from them? Why? And when? It had to have been before she knew she was pregnant. She wouldn't risk her kid like that.

Unless she did leave and then thought she might be pregnant. She...was coming back that day when he and Denise and Rosita were returning to Alexandria after their run. That's why she looked so bad, why Rick looked so stunned and immediately pulled her aside. That's why she was so confused when he asked why she wasn't inside. She wasn't out just to be out; she'd actually gotten away from them. He hadn't been there to stop her, not like at the church, and she fled.

His breathing slowed as it dawned on him that she would have stayed gone too, were it not for the baby. She wouldn't have ever come back to Alexandria. He might not have been able to find her. He couldn't track cars, and she was intelligent enough to know how to hide her trail from him. He even fucking taught her how to make a false trail. Fuck! He would have lost her for the rest of their lives. He wouldn't know if she was alive or dead or someone's prisoner. He would have no leads on her. She would simply be out of his life. He could have died without ever seeing her, or knowing what happened to her.

While Daryl was lost in his thoughts, Tobin had walked away toward the group, and when Daryl came back to reality to escape the torture of his thoughts, he saw Glenn tossing a bag into the trunk. He stared and frowned, and Glenn approached him to explain.

"You know this is a suicide run!" Daryl erupted. "Y'all are gonna get killed!"

"Maggie asked me to go with them, and I don't mind to. If we get caught... I just hope it's not like last time, but if it is, I want to be there." He sighed. "I know you don't like it, and I don't really like it, but I have to do this. I have to, so you need to keep an eye on Maggie for me, all right? Make sure she eats and gets enough sleep. Same for Carol."

He knew this was about the baby. Glenn was going to ensure Tobin returned here in one piece. He wanted Tobin to be there for his and Carol's baby, and Daryl respected Glenn for that. Pangs stung in his chest at his earlier thoughts and now for this. "You better come back in one piece, short round."

Glenn smiled at the nickname he hadn't heard in ages. "I can't make any promises, but I'll do my best."

Daryl have a nod to him and shot a look at Tobin once Glenn was inside the car, and Daryl pointed Glenn out to Tobin. "If anythin' happens to him, it's on your head."

"Nothing will." Tobin glared back at the man. "I asked Michonne to check in on Carol, make sure she's all right since the food poisoning. She's better at putting the baby's needs above anyone else's." Her and Morgan had been there in a second for Carol and the baby, and he'd have asked Sasha were she not so busy with her own duties. He was beyond grateful Rick's group cared so much for each other. He knew she'd be in good hands. His baby would be in good hands.

Daryl clenched his jaw as they pulled out, he dragged his hands through his hair, and he grunted. "Fuck." He didn't like the feeling boiling up in his gut at the run and at the information Tobin had given him about Carol. "Fuck!"


	18. The Gate

It had gone so smoothly that of course something had to go terribly, awfully wrong. The torturous screams still clung in the air, the sound of flesh being torn from bone rang out as if amplified, the blood spilling out and splattering across ravenous walkers' mouths. The moans and shuffling of feet filled the camp, their hungry hands razing all that breathed.

– – –

"That looks good." Maggie entered Carol's bedroom, finding her hard at work, knitting a blanket with the yarn Michonne had found. "What's it for?"

"The baby."

"Wow. I wish I could knit." Maggie climbed onto the bed. "My mom could knit. My birth Mom, Jo, not Annette."

"You never talk about her."

"Nobody asks." She reached out and picked up a needle. "How are you today?"

"I'm okay. Why do you ask?"

"No reason." Maggie crossed her legs. "Oh, the girls are here."

Carol blinked. "The girls?"

"Carol!" Mika blew into the room and tackled her in a big hug. "I missed you! I'm so glad we found you!"

Carol couldn't breathe at the young girl in her arms, her hands trembling as they found her soft blonde hair braided down her back, and she was clothed in a blue and white dress, all clean and big smiles. There wasn't a single wound on her, and she had even grown up some. "W—what?"

"Not so tight," Lizzie chided her younger sister. "You'll hurt the baby."

"Oh, right." Mika let her go and grinned at Carol. "You look so pretty!"

"Dad said pregnant women glow, and they do." Lizzie was smiling as brightly as Mika. "And you're getting bigger. I mean, not much, but still. I can't wait to meet the baby."

"You have a quite a bit of time before then, honey." Maggie smiled at the young girl. "I mean, if it all works out."

Mika's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"Carol could lose the baby." Maggie rested her hands in her lap. "You know, like she lost her twelve-year-old daughter without ever even searching for her."

Lizzie blinked. "You didn't look for her?"

"Why not?" Mika frowned. "You came after us."

"And look what good it did."

Carol tensed and turned to find her little girl in the doorway, all grown up. She was beautiful, her light hair down to her shoulders, her skin sun-kissed and freckled, wearing a dress in the same style as Mika, though it was a different color. "Sophia."

"You didn't try to save me, and I died." She laughed mirthlessly. "And you tried to save Lizzie and Mika, and they died. There is just no winning, Mommy." She rested her arms around Mika and Lizzie's shoulders. "We died, even though you tried so hard to keep us alive, and the baby will die too, just like all of us girls."

"No," Carol protested. "No, that won't happen again."

"But you're already bleeding," Maggie pointed to the blood spreading through her pants. "And there's nothing you can do."

Carol set her hand on her stomach, the blood spreading through the fabric, and she couldn't breath. "What? No, no, no, no. God, don't be happening."

"Why?" Lizzie flickered back to her old clothes, a bullet in her temple, her hair dirty from being buried, despite having been wrapped in a sheet. "It happened to us under your care, after all. It's better off."

"We'll take care of the baby." Sophia sat down in front of her mom. "We'll do a much better job at it."

"No," Carol whimpered. "Sophia, baby, please, don't."

"But I'm not." She set her hand over her mom's. "You're doing this."

She shook her head.

"It's just what happens when you love something." Mika hopped up onto the bed beside Sophia. "Don't worry, Carol. I'll be a good big sister to her. I promise."

"She'll be safe with us," Lizzie smiled somewhat darkly. "We know the cost of your love, after all, and we'll prevent her from ever feeling it."

"No!"

Carol shot up, wide awake, sweat coating her skin, and she was panting. She kicked off the blanket and set her hand on her stomach. She wasn't far enough along to show, but it was dry. There was no blood, just sweat, and she felt bile rise up in her throat. She threw herself off the couch and found the bathroom, upchucking.

She spent a good ten minutes throwing up and partly dry heaving once she had nothing else in her system, and she shuddered and leaned against the cabinets. She pulled her legs in, the material of her dress gliding between her thighs, and she rested her head against the wooden door, closing her eyes. She could feel she was crying, cold tears dripping down her collarbone, and she shivered, a hand falling to her stomach and staying there. She had a feeling today was going to be a terrible one.

– – –

Glenn grinned at Tobin's story, only the two of them securing this portion of the camp, and he could hear walkers, but he couldn't see them. The sound kept his guard up, but he couldn't help smiling at what he was being told. He'd forgotten how good it was to talk to people. He missed it.

"So, how did the baby look?" Glenn peered at him. "Maggie said it was small."

"It's like a dot." He smiled. "It was incredible and so small. I can't believe that it's my child."

"Yeah, I know what you mean." He stepped over a long-dead body and gripped the hilt of his knife. "When I first saw our baby, I couldn't believe it. It was a momentous moment for me, one I can't and won't forget. It's both of us, you know? Me and Maggie in one little ball of life, and it was breathtaking."

"Will you try again?" Tobin wasn't sure he had a right to ask, but he thought he'd go for it.

"Not right now. Maggie and I still have a lot to rebuild, and I don't think either of us is ready to try again." He swallowed. "I can barely look at the sonogram."

He nodded. "I hear our baby is helping Maggie. I can see it too."

"Hmm?" Glenn glanced at him. "What do you mean?"

"I was at Hilltop with Maggie and Carol, and I could see how watching the baby...brought a glow to her eyes. One I don't think anyone's seen in a long time." He smiled at the memory of the bright-eyed young woman holding Carol's hand and blinking away tears. "She would read to Carol and the baby in a whisper when Carol napped. She would sometimes touch her stomach, and I think she was talking to the baby."

"That sounds like Maggie." His lips reflected the same smile as Tobin. "She loves Carol, so of course she loves the baby too. It's rough for both of us, but I know...seeing Carol healthy and knowing her baby is healthy, despite the bitter pangs of jealousy and confusion, does my heart some good too. I know Judith survived, and I hope Carol's baby survives, and maybe one day Maggie and I will have a child that survives."

"With you two as its parents, there's no way it won't."

"Same to your kid," Glenn teased. "It's gonna have about ten moms and dads, just like Judith. Sorry, you're the first Dad, of course, but I'm like Dad Number Ten."

Tobin laughed. "Yeah, okay."

"I'd settle for the fun uncle, but we all know Daryl's gonna have that slot. I can't beat the crossbow, and Michonne has the katana, so there's no way I can even try for cool aunt." He shrugged a shoulder. "Maybe if I build a pool..."

Tobin grew silent and narrowed his eyes as the sun beat down on them.

"You okay?" Glenn studied the man. "I was joking about the dad thing. He or she will have a lot of uncles though. Aunts too."

"How involved do you think Daryl will be?" Tobin inquired in a hushed tone, not looking at the man beside him.

"Every step." Glenn slid between a set of cars. "He loves Carol. I don't know if he knows how much, but once Daryl loves someone...he loves them for the rest of their life. He'd die for them. He's a good guy, and he'll do right by the baby and Carol. I know you and he have issues, but you don't need to worry. He knows when to step back, and he knows you'll be a good dad. He's just overprotective of Carol. He always has been since the farm."

"Have they ever...?"

"Carol and Daryl?" Glenn chuckled and shook his head. "No, no. God, no. They've never had sex. Carol has her jokes, and Daryl has...no game, actually, so no."

"Do you think they might?"

He shrugged a shoulder to avoid lying to the man about what he had seen when he stepped outside to invite Carol for dinner, not to mention the hugs and the many, many other instances that could prove that question only had one answer. "Why do you ask?"

"Daryl said this was a suicide run, and I don't know if he was right or not, but if he is...I want to be prepared."

"Daryl doesn't have to be sleeping with Carol to take good care of her, or to even want to take care of her," Glenn imparted. "He'll do it because he cares about her, and he'd rather be shot again than let anything happen to her. They have a bond I've never seen between two people who aren't dating or married, and I understand that you feel threatened by it. I've seen it, and I've heard about it from Maggie, but you don't need to worry about feeling overshadowed. Daryl is a reasonable man, and he'll back off if you ask him too."

"I don't want him to back off," Tobin confessed. "I want him to be with Carol and the baby. He's fearless and strong, and I know they'll be safe with him."

"They could be safe with you too."

"I mean for moments like this—when I'm out of Alexandria. That's when I want him there. She's different around him, she's real, and I want that woman to be there with our child."

"Why don't we just focus on the run?" Glenn changed the subject. "We can talk more about this later, but for now, why don't we just meet up with the others?"

"I need you to do me a favor," Tobin very seriously stated, and Glenn stopped walking.

"What favor?"

"I want you to be the godfather to my son or my daughter."

Glenn blinked. "Me?"

He nodded. "Rick has his own family to worry about, and the men I work with are...more like the part of me I want to change, the part that's a coward. I know you can take care of them both, and I trust you to do it, so I'm asking you to be the godfather. You're a good man, an even better leader from how you've handled the men here, and I know you'll be a great father one day."

"Tobin—"

"You'll take care of my kid, because you care about everyone, even the people who have let you down and betrayed you. I want my kid to grow up with someone like that in their life, and I know you can be that someone." He searched Glenn's eyes. "Will you be the godfather to my son or daughter?"

Glenn smiled and nodded. "Yeah, of course."

"Good." Tobin inhaled. "We should secure that gate before we meet up with the others."

"Lead the way. It's your show." Glenn smirked, pulling the machete from its sheath at the approaching walkers.

– – –

"Have you seen Carol?" Maggie came off the steps, seeing Rick wiping Judith's chin, turning to find Michonne exercising in the living room. "She's not in her room. Her bed hasn't been slept in either."

"She always makes her bed." Michonne halted in her sit-ups and caught her breath. "Although I didn't hear her come in last night."

"Me either." Rick adjusted the toddler in his arms. "Do you think she could have gotten out again?"

"She told us she wouldn't leave again," Maggie groaned. "I'll go talk to Abe. He was on the wall. Again."

"Again?" Daryl was in the doorway. "What's happenin' again?"

"Nothin'." Maggie tapped her palm on the railing. "I have to speak to Abe. Trade shifts so I can be here when Glenn gets back."

"Speakin' of Glenn," Daryl turned to Rick, "what the hell were you thinkin'? That run is a suicide mission! They ain't gonna come back! Not all of 'em, and you know it."

"Daryl." Rick could tell Judith didn't like how Daryl was speaking as she began to whine softly, her eyes misty. "Calm down."

"I ain't gonna calm down. You just sent half a dozen men and Glenn to their deaths." He cut a look at Maggie, semi-apologetic about saying her husband was going to die. "And for what? We don't know that there's anything there worth a damn."

"There is medicine and equipment and items we need there. Glenn did a quick recon of the place, and while he saw what a risk it was, he said it would be worth it." Rick rubbed his daughter's small back to keep her from fussing. "I don't like it, but I trust Glenn to do his job and to return with the items and with those men. Glenn does better solo, but he'd rather die than let anyone fall. You know that, and he made this decision, so why don't you just wait and take a piss at him when he gets back?"

"If he comes back and all those men ain't with him, or if even one's missin'...it's gonna kill him." Daryl huffed. "And you know it. The last run he went on...with Noah and Aiden and Nicholas is still with him, and the last time we were all out there with the walkers, tryin' lure them away...when Nicholas killed himself..." He shook his head. "It's bullshit. This whole damn thing."

"It might be, but Glenn decided to go." Maggie crossed her arms. "He'll come back."

"Yeah, it ain't him I'm worried about."

"He'll make sure Tobin comes back too. Have a little faith."

It wouldn't kill you to have a little faith rang on in his head, and his lips twisted into a sneer. "Yeah, faith." He folded his arms over his chest. "I got faith that just Glenn will come back."

Maggie frowned at the look on his face. "I can be on the wall when they get back, if you'll take my shift for the next couple of nights."

He nodded. "That's fine."

"Thank you. I'm gonna go speak to Abraham." Maggie didn't look at Daryl. "If he doesn't know, I'll come back."

"Know what?" Daryl demanded, seeing the look Maggie and Michonne shared. "What's goin' on?"

"Carol's missing again," Michonne calmly and honestly answered, Rick and Maggie sending her warning glances. "She isn't in her room, and her bed hasn't been slept in."

"She ain't outside the walls. She said she wouldn't go out again." Daryl sounded very like a five-year-old had just been told they wouldn't be going to the park today. "She wouldn't."

"Well, she might have. I'll talk to Abraham and Sasha. Sasha was on the wall last night, and him this morning. We'll find her."

Daryl remembered the last time he couldn't find Carol and backed up toward the door. "Don't bother. I—I think I know where she is. I'll bring her home so she can eat."

"And if she isn't there?" Maggie asked.

"Then I'll come back and we'll look for her." He turned on his heel and jogged off toward the vacant houses.

"Do you think he'll actually find her?" Michonne climbed to her feet.

"Yeah." Maggie grasped the doorknob. "He's good at findin' her."

"We should worry more on Glenn and Tobin." Rick turned to his girlfriend. "Maybe I oughta send another group over there. Or go myself."

"You're having second thoughts?" Maggie's brows rose. "Now?"

"I had them when both Tobin and Glenn came to me about this run, but I thought Glenn's answer would assure me. It didn't, and I am worried about all of them making it back here."

"Why didn't you stop it before they left then?" Michonne took a drink of water.

"Because it felt like this was something Tobin needed to do, and Glenn seemed as determined to help him do this. They have a good lot of men with them, and they've been working with Rosita, so they should be fine. Francine gave them an outline of the land and spots to avoid. That's why I agreed to it, but now...I don't know. I can't shake this feeling in my gut."

"Why do you think Tobin was dead-set on going through with this?" Michonne inquired.

Rick's eyes moved to the light-haired angel in her arms and reached out to smooth unruly hairs down. "We do what we have to, even what isn't a good idea, for the future and the life of our children." He smiled at Judith. "That's gotta be what's fuelin' him."

"And my miscarriage is what's fueling Glenn to keep Tobin alive." Maggie murmured this to herself. Glenn knew what it was like to grow without one or both parents there, watched Judith grow without her mom, and he didn't want that for Carol's baby, as the last father Carol had known had been a piece of shit. He wanted Carol and this little baby to have a slice of a good home life in a shitty world. That was her husband. She truly hoped Glenn was successful, for the baby's sake and Glenn's.

– – –

"Have you thought of names?" Glenn filled a duffel bag with medicine. "I know it's still pretty early, but...Maggie was thinking of names."

"Not really." Tobin zipped up the gauze he'd found and moved onto the next item on his list. "I haven't given naming the child or what I want much thought. I guess once the baby's bigger, Carol and I will talk about names."

"I suppose it's better to wait." He found two glass bottles of morphine and carefully wrapped them in cloth to ensure they'd survive the trip back. "But not too long. I mean we had Judy nameless for a while there."

"Really?"

"Yeah, Daryl called her Lil' Ass Kicker, or just Ass Kicker, and eventually Carl came up with Judith."

"Ass Kicker." He laughed. "That sounds like him actually."

"Carol wrote it on her makeshift crib in marker." He smiled at the memory of seeing her and Beth hovering by the white box now and then, baby talking the little infant all nestled in the sheet. Beth would hum now and then to the young infant, Carol prompted her to actually sing, and it gave Beth the confidence to sing in front of them. He didn't know if anybody knew about that, but he did. He knew. He kept that memory of his sister-in-law particularly close to his heart. It was one of his favorites after all, next to her and Maggie singing The Parting Glass around the fire that first night at the prison.

"Do you think he'll nickname my kid?" Tobin reached up inside cabinet to see if anything was in the back.

"Probably. He used to call me "short round"." Glenn was smirking. "His brother called Rick "Officer Friendly", so I think it's a family trait."

"What does he call Carol?"

"He doesn't." Glenn closed the cabinet. "I don't think he's even said her name. At least to her face."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. She just always knows when he's talking to her, I guess."

He nodded. "Did you have a name picked out for your child? I know you said Maggie had thought of names, but had you?"

A faint smile ghosted his lips. "I did. I wouldn't have minded if we named the boy—if it was a boy—after Maggie's dad. He meant so much to both of us, taught us both so much, and I would like to have honored the man and the memory by naming our first-born son after him."

"And had it been a girl?"

"I don't know." As much as he loved and missed Beth, there was no chance in hell he'd suggest naming their daughter after her. A middle name, perhaps, but not her first name. He had seen what Beth's dead did to Maggie, the nightmares she had, the breakdowns she tried to hide those days on the road, and he couldn't give that name to his daughter. Beth was a good kid, bright and hopeful and sweet, but the name invoked too much pain. So if they ever had a daughter, he'd lean toward something more original.

"I'd ask Carol what she'd like to name the baby, but I don't know if she'd answer me."

"She might not know how to." Glenn adjusted the bag on his shoulder. "Carol's complex, and we've all endured certain things we can't tell other people about. She has a lot of stories like that, and she doesn't trust easy. It's nothing against you, it's just...what the world's done to her. To all of us."

"She trusts you. She trusts nearly everyone in your group."

"Yeah, after the bonds we've built, all we've been through, it's damn near impossible to not." Glenn smiled. "Tobin, if you want to get closer to Carol, if want her to trust you, you just have to be patient. It might not happen, because you haven't gone through the world like we have. You can't relate like I can or Michonne can. She may not open up to you, but if you want her to try, you have to try too."

"I have."

"You're jealous about Daryl," Glenn corrected. "We all see it. We all know it."

"I'm not jealous."

"You are, and it's not because you're in love with Carol." Glenn paused. "Unless you are? I don't want to make assumptions."

"No," he softly remarked, "I'm not in love with her."

Glenn frowned at his tone. "Did...you love her before?"

"I didn't know her, and I still don't." He collected his bag. "You can't love someone you don't know."

"You love your baby."

"That's different." He faced the younger man. "I don't have to know my own child to love them."

"That's true, but the way you act when people mention Daryl isn't...how you react to your ex-girlfriend's best friend. So either you love her or did love her, or you just really hate Daryl for no reason, because he's never been around you until this pregnancy came to light."

"It doesn't matter. We need to load this in the truck."

"It does matter."

"No, Glenn, it doesn't. It's not like Carol and I ever had any chance of raising this kid together, not in the normal way like Rick and Michonne, or you and Maggie. We were never going to have Sunday dinners and birthday parties." He swallowed. "And to be honest if Carol had any feelings of affection for anybody, it sure as hell isn't me. It was never me."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it." He pulled out a smile. "Just help me load up the truck. The guys should be finished with the equipment by now, so let's wrap this up and get home."

"Yeah."

– – –

Daryl entered the house and spotted a blanket on the couch, and the couch was cool to the touch. He started to investigate, and he located the thought missing woman in the bathroom, still wearing the same clothes from yesterday. They were wrinkled now, so she must have slept here, too tired to move back to the house. That brought a smile to his lips, and he decided to do something for her. He'd work on it later when he didn't have to ensure she was all right.

He carefully slipped his arms underneath her legs and around her back, lifting her up and off the floor, and she instantly curled against him. He didn't know why she was asleep in the bathroom, but he suspected she had a bout of morning sickness, was drained afterward and drifted off. He had seen how exhausted she was lately, and he heard it was normal. Michonne had talked to him about it when he found Carol passed out in the living room after only having been up for a few hours. He'd been concerned, but Michonne eased his thoughts.

He rose from the floor and carried her out of the house. She would need to change out of yesterdays clothes and to eat, and he didn't want to wake her just yet. She rarely slept well, he'd noticed, and he wanted her to get as much decent rest as she could. From how her brows had furrowed and sweat didn't coat her brow, she seemed to be having a pleasant dream. He was glad.

"Check out Prince Charming," Tara mused when Daryl was at the foot of the steps with Carol in his arms. "You do know it's not princely to try and steal a woman's heart when she's carrying another man's baby, right? I mean, they aren't together or anything, but it's just manners."

He glared. "Could you get the door for me?"

"Yes, Charming." She hopped up and opened the door. "Be careful on the stairs."

"I ain't carryin' her all the way up to her room." He guided them inside the house and moved toward his bedroom. It was on the bottom floor, and he didn't have to worry about losing his footing. He wouldn't risk the baby or her like that.

Tara smiled to herself at how tender Daryl was being with the woman, and she closed the door, deciding to keep her teasing comments to herself. She knew how rare it was to find someone in this world that actually worth it, that didn't hide behind a mortifying mask, and she'd let them slowly figure their feelings out.

After all you don't hug a woman like that and claim to simply be BFFs, Tara thought to herself with a self-satisfied smirk and plopped back down to scribble quiz questions out on note cards to help Enid with her upcoming exam.

Inside Daryl carefully placed Carol down on his bed, swiping a few extra pillows from the hall closet, and he covered her legs with his blanket. He rarely used anything in this room the first couple of weeks they were here, but he eventually grew more and more comfortable with the idea of staying. He liked having an actual bed to sleep in. The beds in the prison were shit compared to this mattress, and the fact that they had running water and power. There were no battery-operated lamps tossed here and there to guide people's way. They just had to flick a switch, just like before the end of the world.

His eyes fell to Carol's face as he moved his hands from either side of her. He didn't want to wake her, so he'd gently placed the blanket over top her, and he was about to leave when he noticed a shift in her. She was breathing heavily now, her brows knitted together and the peace he'd seen when he held her was gone. He frowned and tried to wake her, and she shot up, moving to fight him.

"Hey, hey, it's me!" He caught her wrists after getting whacked in the eye, and she stared at him, panting and shivering. "It's just me."

"Daryl?" She lowered her arms, his hands still on her wrists, and she gazed at him. "What are you doing here?"

"I found you in the empty house, and I brought you home. I didn't wanna risk wakin' you or trippin', so I brought you to my room." He released her wrists and slid his hands in a way that they brushed against the palms of her hands. "Are you all right?"

She shook her head, her breathing continuing to be irregular and raspy, and she flattened a hand over her stomach. "I want to go to Harlan's."

"What? Why? What happened?"

"I—I just need to know the baby's all right. I just—I need to know."

He searched her lachrymose eyes. "The baby is all right."

"What if something went wrong? What if...something happened?"

"What could have happened?"

"I don't know, and that's why I need to see Harlan." She had no idea what had come over her, but she had no control over herself, not like she normally did. Her mask had dissolved the moment she woke up in Daryl's bed, and there was no time to slap it back on. "Please, please, I have to know."

He moved closer to her, tentatively reaching out to cup her cheek, and he locked his eyes with her. "It's okay. You don't gotta worry about the baby right now. It's just anxiety 'cause of what happened with the food poisonin'. It's okay. The baby's okay."

"No, something's wrong."

"Nothin' is wrong." He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out the sonogram he'd gotten from Harlan on their last trip. "See, it's all good."

"Daryl..."

"Just calm down and breathe." Denise told him this might happen, and he wasn't stunned. Hell, he had nightmares at Hilltop about what he might wake up too, which was mostly why he didn't sleep. He knew this had to have affected Carol physically and mentally, and they'd gone through the physical. Now it was mental, and he wasn't going to let her stress herself into losing the baby. He wouldn't let that happen.

"Please," she cried in a whisper, "take me to Hilltop."

"Just breathe," he murmured, and he grasped her hand, moving it to his chest. "Breathe like me, okay? Just calm down."

Tears rolled down her cheeks, but he could see she wasn't shaking anymore. Her eyes left his and closed, and soon her breathing evened out. He tightened his grip on her hand, and he brushed his thumb over her knuckles, seeing she was still crying. He wasn't good at comforting people. He never was. He wasn't like Glenn. He didn't know all the right things to say or do, and he wasn't a big fan of touching, but he didn't mind touching her, so he would do just this. He'd hold her hand, help her regulate her breathing and simply be there for as she'd always been there for him. He hoped it was enough.

Carol couldn't stand how cold she felt, how icy the tears on her cheeks were, and she felt Daryl's fingers rubbing warmth into her. She shuddered, and she decided to just go for it. She didn't want to make him uncomfortable, but given how he'd held her before after Terminus and again after those assholes kidnapped her and Maggie, she doubted he'd mind.

She curled closer to him and rested her head on his chest, and she could feel he was tense, but not from an unwanted touch. It was due to being suddenly touched, and she felt him relax some. She couldn't stop crying, and she didn't even know why, but she was grateful he was there. If he asked what was wrong, she would explain she had a dreadful nightmare, one she couldn't remember but it shook her to the core. She hated to lie to him, but it was all she could manage for the moment. In addition it had been a nightmare, though she knew the details of it would haunt her every waking moment.

She rubbed her thumb gingerly through the wrinkled fabric of her dress over her belly in time to Daryl's thumb brushing over her knuckles, and she could feel exhaustion once more settling in. After the lack of sleep from the night before, it was no surprise. What she wouldn't give to be able to sleep right here where she felt safe and warm.

"I'll get you some water." Daryl released her hand. "Do you want somethin' to eat?"

"No, but I should eat something."

"Okay. I'll be right back."

She watched him leave the room, looking back a few times to check on her, and she exhaled deeply, closing her eyes. She didn't know if she could stomach food at the moment, but she had to try. She couldn't wither up merely because she had a bad dream. Not for the sake of her baby. She'd just choke down whatever food he'd bring her, and maybe then he'd stop looking at her so much. It was unsettling when he did, because she felt the need to tell him everything that happened at the grove, everything that was happening to her, and she wasn't ready to do that. She didn't know if she'd ever be ready. She kept having the same circular thoughts, and there was no easy resolution. Not one she'd stuck with anyway.

– – –

Glenn and Tobin had secured the items in the truck and had it ready for the trip back home. They were roaming through the streets now, trying to find the cache of weapons Francine had mentioned, and the men were looking for any bits of clothing that were worth taking home. Glenn had seen a few kids toys and decided to take them back with them. Judith might like them, and Carol's baby too.

Abruptly there was a loud scream, and Glenn froze in his steps. He knew that sound. He knew it and could hear it every time he closed his eyes and thought back. He could even recall the first time he heard it, and his stomach wrapped itself up in a macrame of knots. He felt a cold chill run down his spine, and he sprinted off towards the sound without even speaking to Tobin.

"Glenn!"

He rounded the corner, his gun out of its holster and in his hand now, and he came to a screeching stop at the sight before him, gasping wildly.

Walkers. Dozens and dozens of walkers were spilling out of the greenhouse, the area Francine had been most anxious about and told them to just leave it be. Glenn asked why, and she hadn't answered. She didn't seem sure of whatever was bothering her, so she just insisted. Now he knew why she had repeatedly insisted they avoid it, why she had been so pale and concerned about it. They had locked as many walkers as they could into the greenhouse and slapped a lock on the door to keep them inside so the women and children could escape. Francine might have known, or she might have heard about it while they were preforming the task.

"Oh, my God." Tobin saw walkers consuming his friends. "Derek."

"No!" Glenn grabbed his arm and prevented him from taking another step. "We have to get out of here. We can't help them. They're infected now."

"We can't just leave them!"

"We have to." Glenn cringed and felt his eyes burn at the sound of them screaming, begging for help and following those cries was gurgling. He knew the walkers had immediately gone for the throat with some of the men. He wanted to put them out of their misery, but the walkers hadn't seen them yet. They could still make it to the truck. It was just behind the gate. These men could die, and it wouldn't in vein. He loathed that train of thought so very much, but it was the truth. "I'm sorry, but we have to go right now."

"We can't," Tobin repeated.

"I don't want to leave them like this either, but I am not going to let you die here too. I made a promise to my wife that I would get you back home in one piece, and I have to keep that promise. We have to go now."

"No, Glenn, we can't leave," Tobin explained, "because Derek and Tom have the keys to the cars and to the truck."

"What?"

"They said they'd found some canned goods, so I let them have the keys to load them into the truck. I didn't know... I didn't know this would happen."

Glenn pushed Tobin back behind a nearby house when the walkers who were bunched up and feasting on their friends began to lift their heads like they could hear them. "Which one has the keys to the truck?"

"Tom."

Glenn sighed and thought for a moment. "Maybe we don't need the keys. Let's just get back to the truck. We have to hurry while they're distracted."

He nodded.

They had to get by the walkers gorging on their friends, Glenn couldn't look at the bloody piles they were becoming, and Tobin's heart dropped when suddenly all he could hear was wet smacking and tearing. There were no more agonized screams hanging in the air, no more pleas for help, no more struggling and grunts. They hadn't even been able to fire a single bullet before the walkers were onto them. How the greenhouse had been opened, Glenn didn't know, but he prayed there were no more walkers hordes locked up anywhere else.

––

They had made it back to the medical area without being spotted, Glenn was tempted to try coating themselves in walker guts as the number of walkers seemed to have swelled in the last few minutes, and Tobin was on the floor, wallowing in guilt and self-loathing. Glenn didn't want to poke an already downed man, but there was plenty of time for feeling sorry for themselves when they weren't two seconds from being dessert.

"We need to move." Glenn searched for any supplies they'd left behind, but unless he could halt the sun from setting and use all the shiny metal objects to blind the walkers, there was nothing of use here. He didn't have enough bullets to try and kill them all, not even with Tobin's help. Glenn wondered how many of the walkers trapped in there were Francine's old group.

"Daryl was right," Tobin wheezed. "We shouldn't have done this. We shouldn't have come."

"I gave the go-ahead," Glenn informed him. "It's on me before it's on you."

"I suggested this whole thing. It's on me." He sorrowfully looked up at the young man. "We'll never get out of here alive. It's like Alexandria, only worse because it's just the two of us. What can we do against a horde of those things?"

"Survive." Glenn approached the man. "Get off your ass and stop feeling sorry for yourself. If you want to live, if you want to see and hold your child then you follow my lead. We're going to get out of here."

"How?"

"I don't know just yet, but we will. For now, why don't you keep an eye on them? I think they'll be moving on soon." He swallowed with difficulty at that, and he remembered the last time he'd been out here and it'd gone to shit. "Don't shut down on me. You have a reason to fight, Tobin. You have a baby, a little girl or boy who needs a father in their life. Don't throw it on me, because you're scared. You're the damn father, so you need to fight."

"I'm not giving up."

"Then come on."

– – –

Maggie looked over at someone climbing up the ladder, and Enid greeted her with a smile. Maggie returned it and sat with her hands in her lap, the night air blowing at them, and Enid held out a bowl of soup. It smelled like heaven in a bowl.

"What is that?"

"It's deer stew." She stood beside Maggie. "Daryl went hunting, found a deer, and Rick and Michonne made it into stew. I thought I'd bring you a bowl. It's still warm."

"Thank you." She accepted the food. "Did you eat?"

"Yes." She scanned the darkness for headlights, which likely was what Maggie was waiting for. "I don't think they'll be back so soon, do you?"

"No, but I like being out there. It makes me feel...like I'm not slacking off, like I'm doing everything I can."

"That's how I feel when I'm learning with Denise."

"Oh, yeah? How's that going?"

"Great. I learn quickly from the Denise's teaching methods, and she's a great teacher. I understand all she's taught me, and I've even been able to help her remember things as well." She smiled. "I feel like I'm doing something useful for once."

"Well, once you've graduated, I'll throw a party for you." Maggie grinned at the young girl and set her arm around her shoulder. "I'm really proud of you, Enid. You're doin' a great job."

She blushed from the unexpected praise and nodded. "Thank you."

"If you need help with anythin', let me know. I'd be glad to help."

"Tara and Denise offer me enough help, but okay." Enid nodded her chin the bowl. "Eat while it's still hot."

"Okay, okay." She removed her hand. "Wanna keep watch with me?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

––

"Hey." Daryl knelt down beside the bed where Carol was lying down, and he set a hand on her shoulder, the other holding a bowl of stew for her. "You up?"

She nodded, not opening her eyes. "You were gone for a long time." Her eyes opened and found his. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah. I went huntin' to get some meat for dinner." He sat beside her on his bed. "Did you eat lunch?"

"Yes." She pushed herself up. "Thank you for bringing it to me."

"It's no problem." He handed her the bowl. "It's venison, potatoes and carrots."

"It smells good." She grasped the spoon. "Did you have some?"

"Yeah, I ate with the kids and Rick and Michonne. I woulda brought you a bowl sooner, but...eh, I was starvin', stomach got the better of me." In truth he wanted to make sure the meat was thoroughly cooked. He knew all of it cooked properly, but he wanted to be sure. Michonne said any longer, and Carol would have venison jerky stew with mushy carrots and potatoes, and he tried it and waited. He didn't know how long it took for food poisoning to set in, but if he got it first, they'd take her back to Hilltop before it set in with her.

"I wish we had bread." She stirred the stew with her spoon. "Maybe one day."

He watched her eat, blowing on each bite before she ate it, and he felt sick to his stomach at what could happen if he'd screwed up again. He was tempted to just give her carrots and potatoes, but Michonne said he was being ridiculous. They couldn't sate her food cravings, and he couldn't deprive her of meat too. It wouldn't be good for the baby. He or she needed the nutrients and protein the meat provided, and Daryl wasn't going to weaken the kid by not giving it meat. He wanted the kid to be tough and a good weight, wanted Carol to be nourished, so he'd just have to be careful. Maybe get a meat thermometer, or whatever they were called. Yeah, he'd do that. Would it still work though?

"Daryl?" Carol didn't look up from her bowl. "Stop."

"Hmm?" He frowned. "Stop?"

"I can hear you stressing out from here." She raised her head and smiled at him. "I'm pretty sure this meat won't hurt me or the baby. I'm also sure if it were anymore well done, I'd have to use a blender to just eat it it's so tough."

He chuckled nervously. "Sorry."

"I know you care and you worry, and I love that you do, but seriously." She spooned out a piece of meat for him to try, and he felt his ears burn at the thought of eating off the same spoon as her. "Try this, and tell me it couldn't rip out one of your teeth just by chewing on it."

"Ehh..."

"I don't have germs, and we've already shared a canteen."

He leaned down and ate the meat off the spoon, and he frowned at trying to chew it. She actually laughed at his face, and he smiled to see genuine and highly amused giggles escape her throat. He chuckled himself and choked it down. "Shit, I'm real sorry."

She covered her mouth with her hand and smiled. "Thank you."

"For what?" He reached over to drink some of her water to aid him in swallowing the rest of the rough, dry meat.

"Just thank you." She just smiled at him and had another spoonful.

– – –

Glenn had opened the front gate to give the walkers a new path to wonder through, Tobin killed a few while watching Glenn's back, and they crept through the town. They had to get to the other side to get to the truck. It was behind the gate that lead to where Francine's old camp kept their cars prior to their camp's fall. They just had to get there, slap that gate closed and get in the truck. They were home free as soon they hot-wired it. Glenn had seen Rick do it, helped Daryl do it on a few runs, and he was positive he could get them out of there.

Darkness had kissed the camp, the moon their only escort in the night, and Glenn made damn sure Tobin kept close. He didn't want anything to happen to the man. It wasn't simply because he made a promise to his wife. It wasn't just because he knew the ache losing a parent did to a child, even an unborn child. It was because he did like Tobin. He'd seen a lot of him after the miscarriage, when he worked himself damn near to the death, and during this run, he'd gotten to know the man. He was a decent guy. Carol couldn't have picked a better random man to have an accidental child with, and Glenn wanted to be there when Carol handed the baby to Tobin. He wanted to see the look on his face.

He had been taken when Rick first held Judy, and he didn't know any other new parents, so he needed to see it. The look of a father first holding his child. He knew how he thought it would look, how he imagined it would feel, and he needed the reality. He knew he and Maggie would try again, and he'd experience it himself. He hoped, anyway, but until then he knew he would feel connect to Carol and Tobin through this pregnancy, so he had to get them out of here together and alive. He refused to let any other outcome come to pass.

Tobin could hear the cracking moans of the walkers surrounding them, and he couldn't keep the image of one of them tearing into him out of his mind. He was flooded with fear and adrenaline and self-preservation instincts, but he swallowed that last one. He wouldn't abandon Glenn. He would likely only end up dead himself if he took that path, but if he lived, he wouldn't be able to knowing he'd left Glenn behind. If he were to leave a good, honest man like Glenn here to die than he didn't deserve to be a father. He didn't deserve anything but death. He wouldn't be that man. He wouldn't a goddamned cowered, not now, not again.

He gripped the lock from the gate he'd opened tighter in his hand, watching as Glenn took out a walker wandering too close to where they were hiding, waiting for the walkers to drift out the gate. Tobin wished he had some type of meat or flesh or blood to throw toward the gate. That would get their attention. He wished this group had goats or any farm life that would have survived that they could use as bait, terrible as it was.

"Come on." Glenn dropped the body and scrambled over to the shed, moving behind it and telling Tobin to stay ducked down. He knew at this rate it'd take all night for them to get across this community. It wasn't that large, but there were that many walkers. He wished he had another Molotov cocktail to chuck out onto the grass to distract them. A sparkler or flare gun or anything. All he had was an actual gun, and that would only get them killed.

They edged to the next house, Glenn turned to tell Tobin to stay here while he checked out the next area, but found a walker there instead. He heard the growls before he felt the hands, and Glenn fell to the ground, the walker snarling and trying to feast on his chest. He groaned and pushed on the walker, trying to find his knife, but he couldn't reach it. He couldn't call to Tobin in case they were any more nearby walkers, and he couldn't see anything but shiny teeth and eyes.

Suddenly a crack sounded, blood gushed out all over Glenn's neck and chest, and the walker went still. He pushed it off to find Tobin standing in front of him, the end of a shovel outward, and Glenn sighed in relief. He gripped Tobin's offered hand and hauled himself up.

"Thanks, man."

"You'd do the same for me." His nose scrunched up at the gore on Glenn's upper body. "Sorry about that."

"Make it up to me by getting us the hell out of here."

"Right."

They moved on, the walkers had yet to thin out, and they seemed to be hearing every step they took. They encountered more and more of them, Glenn knew they weren't leaving through the open gate, and he knew the moment they got the back gate, they'd be in a sticky situation. They had to open a gate that creaked like a banshee screamed, and then they had to rush to the truck and hope the doors were unlocked. If not, they had to bust in the windows and wait while Glenn hot wired it and hoped it worked. Fuck. It was a big ass risk. Fuck. Daryl was right. His gut was right. He shouldn't have said yes because he wanted to help Tobin feel like he was supplying a future for the town and his child. He should have said no and let Tobin find some other way to contribute.

The gate was within sight now, Glenn skirted on ahead, the blood of the walker Tobin had killed over him masking his scent to the other walkers, and Tobin hung back. As Glenn reached the gate, he heard whimpering, and he found another of their team.

"Mike." He bent down beside the man hidden behind trash. "Are you okay?"

"They're all over," he whimpered. "They're everywhere. There's no escape."

"Yeah, they are, but the truck's right there. We'll get in it and get out of here."

"No, no, there's no escape. Tom...took a piece of pipe from the doors...and they just came flooding out. We ran... We tried to run anyway..."

"Sh, sh. We'll get out of this."

"No, no. They'll hear, and they'll come. They'll—they'll do to us what they did to Derek and Tom and the others." He sobbed. "We're all going to die."

"Nobody else is going to die." Glenn set a hand on his shoulder. "It'll be okay, just come with..."

The words died in his throat when his fingers found fresh blood on Mike's shoulder then little divots where he'd been bitten, and Glenn's heart stopped. His mouth dried out, and his eyes locked with Mike in the dark blanket of night.

"There's no escape." Mike was still crying, and he snuffed. "I won't be one of them."

"Mike..."

"I'm sorry."

Night's cruel shadow hid the gun in Mike's hand, Glenn felt the spray of blood on his forearm when Mike pulled the trigger and showered blood from his temple. Glenn jolted and fell back instantly, as if he'd been shot too, and the moaning mass of perpetually hungry walkers turned to where Glenn was, a pep in their step as they had a new meal.

"Glenn!" Tobin fought his way over to him.

Glenn's fingers brushed over a set of keys as he scrambled to his feet, and he felt the keychain Tara had linked onto it while she and Heath where out. It was the truck key! He was rasping rapidly from shock, but his body didn't shut down, and he saw Tobin nearing him.

"Are you okay?"

"It was Mike. He was bitten, and he killed himself."

Tobin gulped back his emotions at the loss of yet another friend. "You gotta go."

"Yeah, I have the truck key." Glenn stumbled back toward the gate. "We can get out through here."

Tobin halted at the creak of the gate and remembered then they'd left the front gate wide open. They could close this one, but the other would offer an exit. It offered the walkers a way to follow them back to Alexandria. They would follow the truck, follow them straight back home to where their families were, to where Glenn's wife was and to where Carol and his baby were. It would be chaos, chaos in which Carol could lose the baby or her own life.

There was no doubt in his mind that Carol could take care of herself, but they'd taken out ten maybe eleven walkers here, and there was no telling in the darkness how many there were. He couldn't let them lure these walkers back to Alexandria, back to home and to woman his unborn child was growing in. Not after he led these men here for them to just die, not after Daryl had warned him and begged him to not go through with this run, not after having finally done something right since the world went to hell.

"Tobin, come on." Glenn held the gate.

Tobin hurried over. "You said you had the truck keys, right?"

"Yeah."

"Good." He reached out and slammed the gate shut. "Don't forget you're the godfather, all right?"

"What the hell are you doing?" Glenn exclaimed. "Tobin, no!" He tried to cover the lock before Tobin could slap it shut, as neither one of them had a key for it. "No, no, no!" He rattled the gate, but it didn't unlock. "What are you doing?!"

"The front gate's open," Tobin quickly reminded him as the walkers drew closer. "And it only locks from the inside. I can't climb it or damage it. It has to be in one solid piece, or the walkers will break it down and follow you back to Alexandria. I know how little effort it takes to knock down a wall that's been even slightly weakened. There isn't enough gas in the truck to try and divert them and make it to Alexandria. We need those supplies."

"I can climb over it."

He shook his head. "I can't risk your life for this. I already have their lives on my hands, and I won't add yours. So start the engine. It'll draw them here and give me time to close the gate before they find me."

"Don't do this," Glenn pleaded. "We can do this together."

Tobin smiled. "We are."

Glenn swiftly lost sight of Tobin, though he heard bodies falling to the ground. He slammed his hand against the iron gate, rattling it once more to try and loosen it, but he had no luck. He cursed and dragged himself toward the truck to start it. It was all he could do at this point. He went over all the ways he could try and beat Tobin to the gate, to pull him out before anything could happen, but he had no ideas. The gate was strong, both metal and wood with only one lock on the inside. It was tall and smooth, impossible to climb your way into. There were ways to climb out, but it was too dark, and if Tobin slipped and fell from that height, he wouldn't get back up. He'd break a leg, an arm, or worse.

He slammed his hands down on the wheel, gripping tightly, and he felt tears rolling down his cheeks, hearing the screams of the men they'd lost, and he wanted to scream. He felt the urge building up in his chest, but if he parted his lips, there would be no sound. The scream was far too great from far too many loses, and it might suck all of him out with it, were he able to release it.

He could hear the laughter of T-dog, Carol, Daryl and Rick when they called up to the tower to check in on him and Maggie, and he remembered how happy T looked to be in a new, safe home. He could still hear his voice, how relieved he was to be off the road and for Lori to have somewhere secure to be. T was just that kind of man, the needs of other vastly more important than his own.

Turn it off.

Don't let go!

It could work, and you know it.

Sorry, brother, as Dale's anguished groans filled the night, Andrea sobbing and begging for them to do something while Rick desperately tried to get Hershel to help, to save him. He could still hear that bullet, still hear the gurgling and the silence that followed once Daryl pulled the trigger.

We are.

He lifted his head and sucked air in through his teeth, and he heard an all too familiar sound. The sound of a single bullet ringing out.

– – –

Tobin had secured the gate, and it was locked tight. The walkers were torn between following the tall slab of meat around and going for the roaring engine. He knew he would die soon, as there was no escape, having locked the back gate. He couldn't easily climb over it, and the keys were on Tom who was eaten down to bone in the middle of the camp. They might have eaten the keys too, for all he knew.

He chuckled at the thought, walkers choking down a set of keys, and he collapsed onto the ground, the knife falling from his bloodied hand. He expelled a long sigh, feeling his injuries, the wounds they'd given him as he hurried to the gate. He knew he likely had more bites now. He could hear them approaching, as he knew they would be, and he reached into his breast pocket, the one directly over his heart.

It was impossible to see in the darkness, and as he was a dead man, he flicked on the small flashlight he'd brought with him to find the little dot that was his child. He smiled at the sight of it, tears in his eyes, and he sobbed for what he would lost out on and for his friends had lost out on, because of his reckless decision. He inhaled so deeply the air felt like it stabbed his throat, and he shuddered, gripping the sonogram tightly.

He would never hear his child's first words. He wouldn't know his or her name, or his or her favorite color, or favorite toy. He wouldn't know their laugh or their sense of humor. He wouldn't know whose eyes they'd have or whose hair. He wouldn't know any of it, and the child wouldn't know anything of him.

If you go through with this, it won't matter who the father is, because the kid won't know. He or she won't you know as their father, or hell even as a person, only we will.

He was a smart man, Tobin decided. A good man, a good father figure, and despite hating to admit it, even in his final moments, he would admit it. Daryl was a fine man, and he would make a good father. If it all worked out, Daryl would make a good father. He was already more intelligent, more prepared and willing to do what he had to do to keep everyone safe without being a thoughtless jackass. Well, he was sure Daryl had his moments, but it didn't matter. Carol would be here to straight up his act.

He pulled the gun from his holster and held the sonogram over his heart. I love you, and I'll always look after you. He closed his eyes as a walker dropped by his leg, reaching out to feast, and he pulled the trigger.

– – –

Glenn struggled to fend off the walker on top of him, and Tobin moved to kill it before it could sink its teeth into Glenn, and he ran right into a walker himself. He reached out to push it back, and he sheathed his knife, thrusting it into the walker's skull. He panted from the rush of adrenaline that shot through him and grasped shovel from the ground, busting open the skull of the walker on top of Glenn.

Glenn gripped his offered hand and hauled himself up.

"Thanks, man."

"You'd do the same for me." Tobin nose scrunched up at the gore on Glenn's upper body. "Sorry about that."

"Make it up to me by getting us the hell out of here."

"Right." Tobin brushed his jaw and felt something wet there. He lowered his hand to try and see what it was, and there was blood. He brushed it off but it pooled right back up. It was his blood, not blood brushed off from the walker. It was a barely there scratch, but it was there.

Glenn was already moving forward, and Tobin felt panic rising up in his chest, his breathing shallow, and his heart pounding. It was hardly a nick, but it was there. A scratch or a bite was enough to do kick start the change into one of them...

Well, there was only one decision then, he thought to himself, refusing to wallow for the bitter end this path had led to. It was his run, his decision, his mistake, and this was the price. The least he could do was keep his non-existent word to Daryl: keep Glenn alive. And by doing so he was keeping his child alive. Glenn would drive the supplies home and deliver them to Carol and essentially to his baby. Abe was a damn fine lead on construction, and Glenn and Daryl would do well picking up the slack this fallen group would leave. Glenn would be an excellent godfather to his son or daughter.

He smirked. It's a damn good thing they had that talk prior to this moment. It would seem the world had its own foreshadowing. If only he had learned to recognize it earlier than this.

– – –

Glenn had stopped the truck smack in the middle of the way back to Alexandria, burying his head in his arms, and he banged his hand on the dashboard over and over. He couldn't keep the tears out of his eyes, and he wanted to curse and shout until it made any sense.

It had all been going so well. They had gathered all the supplies, all of the needed and salvageable equipment, spare clothes and even some new seeds for the garden. He'd gotten to know Tobin more as a person and less as a tall guy who formerly ran construction. They had made it inside and without any injuries. It was going well enough that something had to go wrong, didn't it? And it did. It went so fucking wrong so goddamned rapidly that they couldn't even blink before they were up shit creek without a paddle.

Those men had died all because of a moved pipe. One little piece of pipe to lock in the walkers, and now they were dead. Tobin was dead. There was nothing he could do to help any of them. He wanted to. God, he wanted to kill those men the walkers were eating so they didn't have to feel the fleshing being ripped off their bodies, so they didn't have to feel the walkers chewing on them. If he couldn't have stopped them from removing that pipe then he wished he would have stopped them from suffering as they had.

He snuffled, tears splashing onto the steering wheel, and he remembered Tobin's last expression. He knew it well. He'd seen it before. It made his stomach clench to recount the last few times he'd seen that expression on one of his teammates and more tears trickled down his cheeks. He banged his hand on final time and leaned back, a tremor coursing through his body.

Thank you.

Nicholas had turned to him and said those words just seconds before he raised his gun and ended his life. He had accepted the reality of this situation in his own way—though had he not been so fragile after what happened the last time and between them in the woods, he might have been able to hold on—and he pulled the trigger. He wouldn't be one of them. He wouldn't die screaming and in immense pain like Aiden. He was his choice, and he made it.

It makes perfect sense to me.

Jacqui. She urged them to get out of the CDC. She begged them to leave without trying to argue with her, because it would only be a waste of time. She made a choice to end it all there. She didn't have to wake up hungry. She didn't have to fight tooth and nail to survive. She didn't have to watch home after home after home fall to the ground. She didn't have to sit through funeral after funeral after funeral, even if they didn't have one, they still mourned, and she didn't have to do that. She knew she wouldn't have to do that. She knew she wouldn't breathe one more day, and she was happy about that. Tears in her eyes, smile on her lips happy that since the first time since this all started she had control and soon she'd have peace.

Nightmare ends, they shouldn't end who you are.

Bob was ready. He'd lost his leg, was infected, and he was ready to say goodbye. They had gathered around his bedside and said their goodbyes, and he remembered Maggie tearfully assuring Bob he'd be with them, a part of them. Bob was smiling through the goodbyes, a man with such a big heart, and Glenn missed him everyday, but he knew Bob was content in his last moments. No regrets other than leaving Sasha crying, leaving them entirely. He was a brave man right up to the end, and he was ready. He'd accepted it.

We are.

The look in Tobin's eyes, the way he'd said those words, how effortlessly he shut the gate told Glenn all he needed to know. He was bitten. He knew there wasn't a chance in hell that Tobin would willingly walk through town, through that horde of walkers, if he wasn't. It must have happened when they were waddling through the dark, and instead of fighting it, instead of hiding it, he chose to do save the last man he could. He chose to guarantee that no walkers made it back to Alexandria behind him. He may not have accepted death, but he did accept that this was the end of the road for him. He knew all he'd be missing, and yet he decided to not fight it, not to put Glenn at risk by remaining with him while he changed. He chose to see the mission out till the end for his child's future.

Glenn didn't know how he was going to tell those people none of the men made it out, but he knew had to. He couldn't sit here all morning and let them start to wonder. He had a job to do, like Hershel always said, and he wouldn't leave it unfinished. He was their voice, and he had people, loved ones, to tell their end to.

He started the truck and drove towards home.


	19. Bury Me Gently

Carol woke up in an unfamiliar room, feeling drowsy from sleeping too long, and she pushed herself up. She still wore the same dress from two days ago, and she could smell cigarettes. It was the smoke that clung to her clothes. Yet she hadn't smoked since before she left Alexandria, and she sure as hell hadn't smoked since she found out she was pregnant. So why did she smell cigarettes?

She ran a hand over her face and felt movement beside her. She reached for her knife she'd hidden in her boot as she'd worn a dress and had no belt to attach it to when she saw that leather jacket and its stained wings. Her heart calmed instantly, slowly returning to its usual course, and she exhaled softly. She remembered now.

She'd spent the last day in Daryl's bedroom. They had talked, laughed about how terribly overcooked her meal was, and they slept together. She drifted off first, and he must not have wanted to wake her. That was just like Daryl. He wouldn't have tried to move her all the way upstairs if he could avoid it, and he wanted to let her rest. She wondered if he knew how little she slept, and she suspected he did know. Her heart dropped a little, and she moved off the bed.

"You sleep okay?" A groggy voice murmured at her.

She turned to find he'd rolled over to peer at her through half-opened eyes. "Like a baby."

He nodded and fell back asleep.

She slipped out of the room and to her own to get cleaned up. She caught the sound of a truck and stopped on the steps, hearing the gate next, and she turned around. She opened the door, squinting at the morning sun, and she found Maggie rushing over to the gate.

"Glenn." She tackled him in a loving and tight embrace, crumbling to the ground with him. "Oh, God." She'd seen him while on the wall, and she'd seen the blood on his arm, but she could tell it wasn't his. It wasn't him.

"Maggie." He held his wife close, the tears from earlier returning, and he saw Carol in the street through his bangs. He buried his face in Maggie's shoulder and murmured, "They didn't make it."

She tightened her hold. "I'm sorry."

"I tried to get them out. I tried—I tried..."

"I know."

"There were walkers everything, spilling from the greenhouse, and there was nothing I could do. Most of the men were eaten, and Mike was bitten. He killed himself." He shuddered in her arms and lifted his head to find Carol had gone, and he slammed his eyes shut. "Tobin was bitten too. He...he closed the gate to prevent walkers from following me back home, and he killed himself."

"Oh, God." Maggie felt her eyes burning as Glenn's trembled in her arms.

––

Glenn informed Rick of what happened while they were out, Michonne tried to check on Carol, but she wasn't in her room, and she wasn't in the empty houses. Rick didn't want to let Daryl know just yet, and he didn't have to say anything for Maggie take Glenn home to get him cleaned up. He told the people what happened during the run at an afternoon meeting in the church then he and Abraham and Aaron and Sasha and Eugene got to work on unloading the truck, allowing the people to mourn their fallen friends and family.

Daryl came out as Abe and Aaron hauled a piece of equipment to the clinic, and he spotted Rick and Michonne sorting through the items in the truck. He strolled over to them and found most of the goods had been tucked away. His eyes landed on a tote of toys, and he knew Glenn had been behind that. He smiled inside at the sight, and he asked where Glenn was.

"He's inside with Maggie." Rick unloaded canned goods.

"And the others?" Daryl prodded.

"Only Glenn made it back." Michonne handed her crate off to Rosita who had just come to lend a hand.

Daryl's hands balled into fists and a lump formed in his throat. "Not even Tobin?"

"He was bitten." Rick set down the crate and closed the space between him and Daryl. "He took his own life after ensuring none of the horde of walkers could follow Glenn back to Alexandria."

Fuck. He knew this was a possible outcome, but he had hoped he'd be wrong about it. He wasn't fond of Tobin, but he didn't want the man dead. He wanted Tobin to be here and alive and with his kid. He wanted to see that man buck up and do all the things he said he would do. He sure as hell didn't want to be right about this. Goddamn it. "Where is she?"

"I don't know." He wiped his brow. "She was here when Glenn broke the news to Maggie, but he wasn't able to tell her before she vanished on us."

"She didn't get outside, did she?"

"No." Sasha returned with Abraham. "I was on the wall. The only one in or out was Glenn."

He nodded. "I'll find her, tell her if she doesn't already know."

"I'll come with you." Michonne slid by Rick. "Or I'll look with you. I'll check Tobin's then check the church to speak to Gabriel about the service."

"We don't even got bodies," Daryl pointed out.

"We still lost some good men." She met his eyes. "A child lost its father. That's worth paying respect to."

"I'll get with the crew and make some crosses," Abraham tossed out.

"That's a good idea." Michonne sauntered off toward Tobin's house to look for Carol. She had her fill of hauling boxes and was concerned with how Carol was taking this. It was the father of her child, regardless of how she felt for the man. She wanted to be there in case Carol needed any support.

Daryl headed over to the vacant houses where she'd been the last time they couldn't find her. However there was no sign of her in the usual house, so he tried the others, but nothing. She wasn't there. She hadn't escaped here to work through whatever she had to work through after losing Tobin. Perhaps she knew he would look for her here and chose to flee somewhere else. It wouldn't be surprising. She might like to be alone right now. He didn't blame her. He'd give her some time then start looking for her again.

Right now he had another issue to work on. Glenn could give him a hand with it. He might even like to.

––

Michonne found the door to what was hours ago Tobin's house wide open, and she knew she'd made the right call. She padded up the stairs, hearing a ripping sound, and she frowned. She had no clue what Carol was doing up there, but that didn't seem like the right sound to be hearing. She didn't know if she should expect tears or not, but she certainly didn't expect to hear what she knew to be cloth tearing. What the hell was Carol doing?

She entered the room to find the woman on the floor with Tobin's shirts sprawled out around her. She had a pair of scissors lying on the floor beside her, though she'd taken to using her own two hands from what Michonne was seeing and had heard on her way up the stairs.

"Carol." She bent down beside her. "Stop. Stop." She caught her hands to still them. "What are you doing?"

She blinked a few times and lowered her arms. "He's dead."

She nodded. "Yeah, he's dead."

She picked at the frayed edge of the torn plaid material. "I could tell when I saw Glenn this morning. It wasn't just that he was alone or the truck was the only vehicle; it was the how beat up he looked. He looked like that right after Noah died."

"Tobin saved his life." Michonne gripped Carol's hand. "He was infected, and he locked Glenn out of the camp. He then ensured the front gate was closed. No walkers followed him back home, back to us. He did that for you, for your baby."

"He did this run for the baby," Carol reminded her. "That's the whole reason behind him pushing Rick to agree to do that run."

"He was trying to be a good father," Michonne reasoned.

"And now he's dead. The baby will never know what kind of father Tobin was or would have been. The baby won't know Tobin at all. He'll just be the man in a picture." She yanked on the blue plaid shirt, and Michonne tried to stop her. "He's not here to wear them anymore, Michonne. He's dead."

"Why are you doing this?"

"For the baby." She set the ripped off chuck to the side with the others. "I'm making a blanket for the baby, and I would have needed more cloth at some point. At least this way he or she will have a bit of their dad's favorite shirt with them."

Michonne smiled faintly. "That's a great idea."

Her smile mirrored Michonne's. "I did it for my daughter. I had yarn then, not shirts, but it was great. She loved it."

"Your daughter?" This was the first time Carol had mentioned her daughter to her.

"Sophia." She cut the rest of the shirt up to use to patch other people's clothes if the occasion called for it. It was good material, and she didn't want to waste it. "She used to carry it around all the time. It was her security blanket."

"Did she outgrow it?"

No, Ed simply threw it in the fireplace in fit of rage when he was angry with Sophia. Sophia had cried and tried to grab it, but Carol knew even if she got it out of the fire, Ed wouldn't let her keep it. She had to protect her daughter, so she kept her behind her back and shielded her from next punch that would be an actual fist in Carol's gut.

"She must have," Carol skillfully lied.

"I had a son," Michonne confessed. "He used to lug around a little teddy bear he'd found one day. I couldn't bring myself to take it from him. He'd named it, and he loved it. Andre loved so easily."

Carol locked gazes with her. "Andre?"

She nodded. "He was three years old."

"I'm sorry."

"So am I."

"Sophia was twelve when she died," Carol murmured. "If I had known what I know now then, if I could do what I've done now then, I would have been able to save her."

"If I had listened more, paid attention to Andre's father, I might have known better than to have gone on that run. I might have been able to be there to protect him." Michonne stilled her trembling lips. "I can't know the outcome had I stayed or had you been who you were now back when your daughter was in danger, but I do know we wouldn't be here. I wouldn't be with here with this group, and I wouldn't have met Andrea or Carl or Rick or Daryl. I wouldn't have met you."

Carol knew she and Daryl wouldn't be as close as they are now if she had been able to save Sophia. She might not be close to anybody had she been able to protect her daughter. She only knew them to a certain extent at the quarry as Ed liked to keep her isolated, and she would have been focused on raising her daughter more than...making friends. She and Lori would have still been friends though, as they taught Carl and Sophia, but that might have been all. If she hadn't lost Sophia and decided to keep an eye on Daryl, he might have slipped away in the night. She wouldn't have him in her life at all. He would have just been a grunting stranger to her. The mere thought nearly provoked her stomach to heave.

"I'm not saying it's better this way, but it's just the hand we were dealt, and it has a good side."

"Even a child losing its father before it's born?"

Michonne cocked her head to the side. "I can't claim to know the good from this, but if there is good, it'll present itself." She stood up. "We should talk to Gabriel about having a funeral service for Tobin and the others."

She nodded.

– – –

Glenn and Abraham and Daryl had made crosses for the fallen men, Glenn had made small graves to bury pictures of the men, and Daryl had offered up his copy of the sonogram to bury with Tobin's picture. Glenn and Abraham weren't stunned to discover the man carried a picture of Carol's baby around with him, and Daryl didn't seem bothered by their lack of reaction.

The whole town came to their funerals, Father Gabriel said a few words about each man, lingering on Tobin as he had been an expectant father and had ensured the horde remained inside the walls of Francine's old camp. Francine was in tears, likely drowning in guilt, and she had a friend to comfort her, and a lot of the construction crew were torn up over the losses. It was no surprise. They were good men, and they deserved better. So many people did, but apparently Death didn't agree. It simply took and took and took. They had to wonder who it'd take next.

Daryl saw movement in the corner of his eye, and he looked down to find Carol in tears, her shoulders shaking, and she was holding her stomach. Underneath her palms and the cloth and skin was the last piece of Tobin in the world. He knew she cared. She cared for so many people, but he wondered now if maybe she loved him. He didn't know what their relationship was, but they'd been in it for months. Clearly it was more than a few shared cookies and talks, so maybe she did love him. Maybe he loved her, and he wasn't able to tell her.

His chest tightened at his thoughts, and he realized it wasn't because someone Carol may have loved died. It wasn't just that she and Tobin could have been a real family, could have raised their child together and been like Maggie and Glenn. It wasn't that Carol's baby had lost the only biological father it would ever have. It was the idea that Carol and Tobin could have been in love. They could have raised this child and been together and maybe...have gotten married like Maggie and Glenn. It was the same reaction he had when he thought on how this baby could have been made. He'd brushed it off as blind rage towards Tobin for being so fucking careless, but it was more than that. It had to be if he was this...angry at a dead man.

The problem was Daryl had never felt like this in his entire life, so what the hell was it? What was going on inside of him? Why was he burning and raging over a man who saved his brother? Who spared them from having to fend off another horde of walkers? He couldn't pin it down, but he knew it'd be back if his questions were left unanswered. He knew he'd have to talk to someone. Maybe Denise. She could pick his brain and figure what the hell's happening to him. To his heart.

Gabriel closed with a bible verse, tears were being wiped at, and the group dispersed. Michonne wrapped an arm around Carol and guided her back to the house, Maggie and Glenn spoke with Gabriel, and Rick slapped a hand down on Daryl's shoulder, squeezing it tightly to let him know he was there for him. He knew he and Tobin weren't friends, but he knew Daryl. He knew the man would find some way to feel guilty, to feel like he hadn't done all he could to talk Tobin out of it, and he wanted him to know it wasn't on him. He especially wanted to know that as Carol had been crying too, and Daryl felt the need to do whatever he could to protect her, so Rick knew he had to step up and be there for any self-blaming, for any fits of rage and sorrow. He would take anything Daryl threw at him.

– – –

"Are you sure?" Gabriel asked the couple.

"We're sure." Maggie nodded, holding onto her husband's arm.

Glenn offered a supportive smile to his wife. "It's time."

"All right."

Maggie lowered herself down onto her knees, Glenn sitting beside her, and she adjusted the small cross Glenn had made along with the others, Baby Rhee-Greene carved into it. The small hole she'd dug was still there, and she tenderly lowered the sonogram down inside it, carefully covering it with dirt. She gave it an affectionate pat and sat back, her eyes stinging with tears, and she laced her fingers through Glenn's.

Glenn compressed her hand consolingly and placed the flowers he'd picked from just outside the walls over the grave. The white and yellow wildflowers blew in the breeze but didn't move from the grave they were resting on. Glenn and Maggie rose, and Gabriel said a prayer for their lost unborn child.

Maggie leaned into Glenn, smiling at the words Gabriel was saying, at how she knew both of her Moms, Daddy and Beth were up there with their unborn baby, taking good care of the baby. She knew Beth would sing the little baby lullabies and cradle it as though it were her own, telling it Mom and Dad would one day join them, but not too soon. They had a lot to do down here before they could join them up there. She laughed soundlessly at that, tears running down her cheeks, and she turned to her husband, burying her face in his neck, and he stroked her hair.

Glenn didn't know if his family survived, but he knew if they didn't, if they were up in Heaven with Hershel and Beth, they'd be together. They would tend to it and wait for them. He knew his mother would be overbearing and smother the kid and poor Beth as she was a kid herself and part of their family through marriage. Hershel and his mom would be fighting over the baby, not to mention Maggie's moms and Shawn who he didn't even know. God, that kid had a lot of family up there. T-dog, Dale, Andrea, Lori, and all of others were up there with their baby. That was one lucky kid, and their future brother or sister would be even luckier. They'd make damn sure of it.

"Though you are gone, you will never be forgotten," Gabriel concluded, "your time here, no how brief it was, was invaluable and will be cherish. Now, little one, go into the Lord's embrace and find peace. One day, your parents find their way back to you, and they'll embrace you themselves."

Glenn smiled at him and kissed Maggie's forehead. "We love you," he uttered, eyes skyward. "We always will love you."

Maggie inhaled deeply. "You can't know how much."

"One day," Gabriel promised the couple, "one day they will. Until then...may you all find peace."

––

Daryl knocked on Carol's bedroom door with a mug of hot tea. It was more of the crud Denise had, but it tasted decent. He'd had a cup himself a while back, and it seemed like Carol could use a cup of tea right now. He had nothing else to offer. She'd already eaten dinner for the baby's sake, and he didn't have any chocolate. He'd tried to swipe some, but Enid had been in the pantry, and she lectured him while doing a check of their supplies. He still managed to steal some, but while he'd made the tea, he'd left his vest on the couch. Lil' Ass Kicker weeded it out and nibbled on it through the foil, so after he made sure she was all right, Michonne ate it, saying it was payment for trying to give her a stroke. Assholes. He'd have to get more later.

"You can come in."

He opened the door and found her in the beginning of creating a blanket. The blue and green yard twisted together, and he could see patches of blue and green plaid, and he knew they were Tobin's. She was going to sew them into the blanket. It must be for the baby. The kid would love it. The yarn was soft and easy on the eyes, like the mother, and the shirt looked tough and worn, but it was pretty soft itself, like Tobin. His heart ached at that, and he hated it.

"I brought you some tea." He set the cup on the nightstand and moved back to the doorway. "Thought it might...be good for the kid."

"Thank you." She didn't look at him.

"Are you okay?"

Her hands stilled, and her eyes moved toward him. "No."

"What's wrong?" He moved to sit across from her. "I mean...not includin' the funeral."

"I'm a single mother again, and all I can think about is what happened the last time I was a single mother." The last two times.

"It ain't gonna be like that."

"Daryl, you don't know—"

"It ain't gonna be like that," he interrupted, "'cause you ain't a single mom."

She searched his adamant blue eyes and shook her head. "I can't ask you to do that."

"Well, good, 'cause you ain't gotta ask me. I'm just gonna do it."

Her heart warmed. "You don't know what you're signing onto. We're talking about late nights and diapers and teething and screaming. It's not like with Judith. You can't pick and choose when you'll do it. It's every day, all day. It's a life-long commitment. Having a child changes everything."

"Okay."

"Don't just say okay because you feel sorry for me, or you feel obligated to do this." She studied him. "Tobin made Glenn the godfather, so if I need help, I can ask him. He'll need the practice anyway."

"I don't feel sorry for you or feel obligated to step up. You're... This kid is one of the most important people in my life, you understand? I—I'm gonna be here every step of the way, and you can lean on me. I know I don't know everythin', and I ain't got experience with pregnancies, but I'm here. I'm gonna stay here."

Tears filled her eyes, and she bowed her head, snuffling. When she lifted her head again, she was smiling. "Are you sure?"

"I was sure the day I dug through that pharmacy to find you folic acid." He smiled to the left of his mouth. "I wouldn't do that for just anybody."

"Yes, you would." She moved the yarn and needles aside, reaching out to clasp his hand. "You're a man of honor after all."

"Don't shut me out," he pleaded in a whisper.

"I won't." She locked her eyes in his. "As long as you're in this, I won't."

He moved his hand so that his fingers were in between hers, and he squeezed. "I'm gonna be here. I'm gonna be in this till my last breathe."

"I know."


	20. When It Happens

Daryl and Rick walked the road together, side by side, the weight of their guns familiar and oddly a comfort. The sun beating down on them, their water supply was plenty, and Rick kept an eye on the too-silent man. Daryl wasn't a big talker on a normal day, but today he was especially quiet. It wasn't like him to keep his lips glued shut as they searched for supplies. Rick thought he'd be pleased that they weren't in the car, and as they weren't in the car Rick couldn't serenade him, which they both knew Daryl hated with a passion. Apparent that wasn't enough to lift the gloomy cloud hanging over his head.

It had been three weeks since the funerals, and Daryl had become an especially mute man those three weeks. He'd spoken only to Denise and a few words here and there to everyone else, but it wasn't anything important. He appeared to be lost in his own mind, in his thoughts, and Rick was curious to know what was bothering him. He suspected he knew as Daryl had been acting strangely toward Carol. They were still good and close, but there was something odd about how Daryl hung around her. Or how little he did these last few weeks. It wasn't like him.

"Hey, Daryl." Rick adjusted the high powered rifle in his arms and faced the man, cocking a hip. "Stop for a moment."

"Why?" His voice was dry, raspy, and sweat caused his bangs to cling to together, so Rick could see the narrow gaze underneath.

"I know you're chewin' on somethin'." Rick searched his eyes. "You wanna talk to me about it?"

"There ain't nothin' to talk about," he grumbled, not entirely bothered by the question.

"Daryl, I know you. I can tell something's botherin' you. Just tell me what it is."

"I dunno."

"Well, try and explain it to me. You can trust me."

"No, I mean...I don't know what's botherin' me. I know some of it, but...the rest of it's..." He shrugged his shoulders and caught Rick grinning at him. "What?"

"Nothin'." He chuckled. "Why don't I just give you some advice?"

"You don't even know the problem."

"Yeah, well, neither do you." He tilted his head. "Just go for it. Whenever the time seems right, go for it. It's better in the end than to overthink it. That just...kills it."

Daryl looked bemused.

"It might sound weird now, but when the time is right, you'll get it." He patted Daryl's arm and turned to continue strolling down the street. "Her appointment's tomorrow. Maggie and Michonne are goin' with her. I think you and I should pick up the slack around construction then, maybe one of us can take the wall—"

"I'm goin' with 'em," Daryl interrupted Rick. "I'll help out the day after, but not on her appointment day."

Rick's grin returned in full force as Daryl caught up to him. "Oh?"

"You know that." He looked over Rick's side profile, seeing he had that shit-eating grin on again. "What the hell's goin' on with your face?"

He wheezed a laugh. "Don't worry about it."

"I won't." He smirked. "Gotta wonder what the hell Michonne sees in you."

"Hey." Rick playfully warned his brother, and Daryl chuckled softly. "Don't make me do it."

"Do what?"

"You know what." Rick squinted at the sunlight. "Pookie."

Daryl sent him a dark glower.

"What? Only Carol gets the privilege of callin' you that?" Rick smirked. "Gotta wonder what the hell she sees in you."

"It ain't like that," Daryl corrected.

"You sure about that?" Rick studied the messy-haired redneck beside him for a moment and approached an abandoned car on the road, leaving Daryl behind to contemplate what he'd just said. Rick bent down to peer into the window, and he hoped Daryl caught on to what they were all catching onto. Hell, even Tobin knew. He probably didn't know exactly why he disliked Daryl, but he had to have picked up on Daryl's feelings. Lord knew everyone in their group did. Save for maybe one person, but that wasn't obliviousness. He wiped away layers of dirt and grime. That was the fear of what change could bring. Change wasn't always kind, and he understood that. They couldn't all be as lucky as Glenn and Maggie.

– – –

Carol sat on the porch to what was once Tobin's house, working on the blanket for the baby with a fruit smoothie Maggie had brought her, and she wasn't too fond of how thick it was. It felt like mucus going down, but it was refreshing, and it was good for the baby.

At the thought of the baby, her hand drifted down to the small lump on her belly. She was about three months. She knew she was around the end of week nine or the beginning of week ten. She wasn't entirely positive which it was, but she would know by this time tomorrow. She knew Maggie and Michonne were taking her to Hilltop for her appointment. She felt it was too soon, but given her nightmares the last couple of weeks, it might do her some good. It wouldn't ease the torture her subconscious unleashed on her every night, but she would have the facts to sooth her racing heart when she woke up the next morning.

She pulled the thread, adjusting the cotton underneath, and she saw the shadow of someone nearing. It was a man, and she knew instantly who it was. She didn't bother looking up from her work, and she finished with this patch of plaid, gently rubbing her finger over it. The shirt was rather worn, and that made it soft. It wouldn't feel scratchy to the baby's sensitive skin. That was good.

"Hard at work, I see."

"It won't finish itself, and it's not as if I have other things to do." She tugged the needle through, and she knew connecting it to the yarn would be a painstakingly long process, but it'd be worth it, and she had plenty of time on her hands. "Want to help?"

"I'm afraid I'm not too good at this kind of thing." He gestured to the step beside her. "May I?"

"I don't own the steps." She stopped her work to look at him. "Why are you here?"

"I just wanted to check on you." He sat beside her. "I saw you at his funeral, and you've been...even more distant since."

"Nobody wants to hang around a hormonal headcase." She said it in an only slightly joking tone.

"You're not a headcase."

"So I am hormonal." She nodded in confirmation. "I knew Michonne was lying for my benefit."

"I wouldn't know about that."

"You had a wife and a child. I think you do know about that." She crossed her legs and proceeded in her work.

He lowered his eyes. "It's been a long time since I've had either."

She nodded in agreement but said nothing further on the matter.

"Where's Daryl? He's usually hangin' around." Morgan had noticed Daryl would sit on the porch swing if Carol was out here, repairing or crafting bolts, or looking over their plans for the hospital run next month, or he'd be leaning against the railing, talking softly with her. He didn't know the man, but he knew Daryl wasn't as comfortable around other people as he was around Carol. The same for her as well. She smiled more when he was around, and Daryl showed emotions other than that blank or burning stare.

"He and Rick are going out." Carol smiled at that sentence. "Michonne doesn't mind sharing."

"Do you?"

She blinked and lifted her head. "Excuse me?"

"Just an observation." He waved it away. "How are you feeling today?"

"That's only the fifth time I've been asked." She inhaled. "I'm fine."

"That's good, and I'll wait for sixth next time. I like even numbers."

She peered at him. "Why are you here? Honestly? You only talk to me when you want to gently force me to swallow your do no harm bullshit."

"It's not bullshit."

"It also won't last long, not in this world."

"How can you have that attitude?" he demanded. "You're carrying life that will be in this world."

"That's exactly why I have this attitude," she snapped. "When you can't kill, you're weak. I've been weak before, and it cost me my daughter. I won't let that happen again."

"You weren't weak—"

She squeezed her eyes shut. "I don't want to talk about this. You weren't with us, and you don't know how I was." She released a sigh. "Could you just go? I don't want to start an argument, and you're upsetting the baby. It's giving me a stomachache."

"I wasn't there," he confided, "but I can tell a woman like you...was never weak. The situation might have made you think you were, but you're here now. You're here, and that proves just how strong you are."

She moved the blanket aside and stood up. "I have to use the bathroom." She entered the house and closed the door, inhaling and exhaling a few times to calm herself, and she leaned against the door, feeling somewhat queasy. She hoped the smoothie didn't make a reverse trip, and she set a hand on her stomach, trying to halt the churning.

She didn't want to talk about Ed and Sophia. She didn't want to talk about before or at the quarry. She just wanted to make a baby blanket. She just wanted to pour her attention into something that required a large amount of intricacy to keep her thoughts and fears at bay. She didn't want to linger. If she did, it would all come pouring out, and the last person she wanted it to pour out in front of was Morgan. He wouldn't understand. He was the last person who could understand. The only one who truly could was dead and buried, and now it was just her burden to bare. She would bare it alone. She was used to it.

She rested her head against the door, hearing boots on the steps, and she knew he was gone. She waited a moment before pushing off the door to use the bathroom. When she returned to the porch, she found Maggie sitting where Morgan had sat, and she lowered herself down beside the young woman to see what was going on with her.

"It's coming along nicely." Maggie had picked up the blanket a moment ago, curious to see what Carol was doing with it. "It's soft. Cushy."

"I took the cotton out of one my pillows to pad the bits of Tobin's shirt." She rested her hands in her lap. "I'm not sure how appealing it'll look, but it'll be soft and snug. I think the baby will like it."

"I like it. I wish you had enough yarn to make me one." She smiled at her. "It'll be beautiful. One day when he or she is old enough, he or she will say the same. I know it's corny, but it was made with love, and that makes it special, no matter how much you want to change it."

"Maybe."

"No, not maybe. Definitely." She pulled her legs up to rest her arms on her thighs. "So, did you like the smoothie? I know it was kind of thick."

"It was very thick, but it was good."

"Was it?"

"Yeah. Just cut back on the fruit next time."

She nodded. "Enid and Carl helped me make it, so I'll just do it myself next time. Enid's gotten all doctor on us, said what fruits would be best; and Carl said it'd taste better if we added this fruit and that fruit, and honestly it was just a mess." She laughed at the memory. "I had to kick them both out, but by that time Glenn had come back and mixed it all up. He thought he was helpin', and I didn't want him to feel bad so I brought it to you."

"It's fine, Maggie. Really."

"Okay."

"You and Enid have gotten close."

She nodded. "She's important to me. I feel very protective of her. I feel the same way about her as I did about Beth, only...I know Enid can survive out here without any doubts." She lowered her eyes. "Beth was always a fragile girl, and I didn't...put enough faith in her while she was here. I should have. I should have pushed her a bit more, gotten her out of her shell a little faster. Maybe it..."

She reached over and set a hand on her shoulder. "It's all right."

"I know." She smiled through the shimmer of tears in her eyes. "I'm not sad anymore. I just...miss her so much. Enid helps me...miss her less, but I still do."

"I miss her too."

"She would have been all over your pregnancy, you know."

"I know. I wouldn't be able to cough without her asking me if I'm all right."

She laughed through the tears. "Exactly." She inhaled deeply to regain control over herself, and she cleared her throat. "So, Michonne and I are taking you to Hilltop, and we're taking a car, not the RV. We'll leave at dawn. Is that okay?"

She nodded. "It's fine with me."

"We'll bring some snacks for the road. Do you have any requests?"

"Not unless you can pry chocolate out of Olivia's hands." She smiled sweetly as she said it bitterly.

"I'll try." She wiped under her eye. "If not, Enid can distract her, and I'll take some."

"Daryl tried to get me some the other day, but Olivia caught him. He tried to talk his way out of it, but it didn't work in his favor." She smiled at how fired up he'd gotten about it. "I think that's partly why he went out today, trying to find me chocolate."

"That's not a surprise."

"I suppose not."

"I can go out and get you what you need to make cookies, if you're cravin' sugar."

"That'd be great. I can give some to Olivia to try and pacify her after Daryl's...attempted theft. Thank you."

"You're welcome. I'm glad to help." She leaned over to murmur. "Don't tell Enid about it. She'll say sugar stresses the pancreas."

"She's going to be that kind of doctor then. I'll stick to Denise."

"Hey," Maggie laughed out her words, "she's learnin'. I'm sure once it's all settled, she'll piece together what kind of doctor she'll be."

"I'll keep with Denise all the same. I'm too old to be switching doctors."

"You're not old."

"Though my pregnancy begs to differ, I am. I feel about a thousand years old."

"It's this world," Maggie remarked. "It ages you a hundred years in a couple of weeks."

Carol concurred with a mute nod.

––

Rick and Daryl returned that night with some game, Daryl skinned and cleaned it, and instead of asking Carol, he pointedly sought out Abraham to prepare it on the grill, and Sasha had frowned at the broad-shouldered man. She and Abe had no plans tonight, but he always went to Carol. He liked how she prepared the meats, and he always said Abe under cooked it too often, leaving it in its rare juices. So why was Daryl coming to Abraham and not going to Carol?

Carl and Enid were on the porch, curled up together under a blanket, and Carl was helping her with her homework, holding Judith in his lap as she gnawed on the ear to one of the toys Glenn had brought back with him. Rick and Michonne were rocking on the porch swing, hand interlaced, and they were having a hushed conversation, laughing softly now and then, exchanging a few kisses. Carol was inside on the couch, watching them from the living room, and she felt an icy distance between them and her.

The feeling hollowed her out, and she had no appetite. She didn't want to taste any of the meat Abe had prepared, mostly due to the fact that he liked rare, and she couldn't eat that right now. He might take the time to prepare it well done for her, but who could say. Sasha might pester him to do it, but Carol hoped now. She wasn't in the mood to eat, and if he went through all that trouble, she'd feel guilty. The was the last thing she wanted to feel right now: guilt tossed in with nothing and apprehension.

She rubbed her arms and slipped off the couch, her bare feet meeting the cool floor, and she headed to her bedroom for the night. She'd lock her door, leave a note and said she had eaten. It might not get Daryl off her back, but it was worth a shot.

"Hey."

She halted by the steps at his voice and turned to him. "What are you doing in here? I thought you were all outside."

"I wanted to check on you." He shuffled toward her, keeping a glaring distance between them.

"Why? I'm okay. I'm just a little tired." She held herself tighter. "It's getting colder too."

"Yeah, it is." He peered at her shyly through his bangs. "Do you need any blankets? Extra blankets, I mean."

"I have enough." She moved to the stairs. "I should get some sleep. It's late, and I'm exhausted."

He nodded. "Uh...I got you somethin' while we were out."

"You didn't have to."

"I know, but I did anyway." He waved her to his bedroom, and she followed without a moment's pause. He could smell the soap she'd used when he bent down to reach under his bed, and it seemed his heart wasn't pounding quickly enough before. He felt a strange tingle beneath his skin, and he fumbled for the item underneath his bed.

She lowered herself down beside him. "Do you need a hand?"

"N—nah." He dropped his head and felt his face burning. He pulled the bag out from under his bed and set it on top of mattress. He unzipped it and pulled out a bag filled with yarn. They were clean, soft and varying in colors. "I couldn't find any sweets, but...uh, Rick and I found a truck filled with yarn. It was weird till we saw the logo on the side."

"That's a lot of yarn." She reached over, her hand brushing over his, and she smiled at him. "Thank you. With all of this, I can make you a gift. What would you like?"

"...doesn't matter." He cleared his throat.

"Well, since it's getting colder, I have an idea of what I could make you." She climbed to her feet. "Is the whole bag yarn?"

"Yeah, pretty much." He rose with her. "I'll take it up to your room later."

"I can lift a bag of yarn."

"I got some stuff in here for me," he explained. "Just wanna clear it out before I give it to you."

"What kind of stuff?" she teasingly inquired, head tilted to the side, that familiar twinkle in her eyes, and his mouth dried out.

Before he could collect his thought to reply, Rick came in and said dinner was ready. Carol left with him, and Daryl regained control of himself. He had no clue what the hell was happening. He'd felt nervous before many many times, like when he thought he'd gotten close to finding Sophia and when he saw Merle's severed hand on the roof. When those Termite assholes had them lined up for slaughter. When Rick told him Carol was out there alone. When he stumbled out of the house to find Beth had been taken. When he came out of the church to Carol nearly taking off on them in the middle of the night.

This wasn't like that. Those were nervous-terrified, not...fluttering in his belly, his heart pounding rapidly but felt like it was in a good way type of nervous. He didn't know what this was, and he didn't know why when her hand touched his, he didn't want her to move away. He wanted to hold it as he had that night weeks ago after the funerals. He hadn't had any physical contact with Carol since, as he and Rick had a job to do, and Carol couldn't overexert herself. He found himself beginning to crave her touch, and that caused his heart to race all over again. When he thought about her touch...

He shook his head and joined the others, not ready to pick at that just yet.

– – –

The kids had fallen asleep on the porch after dinner, Carol was drifting in and out against the house, and Michonne decided it was time to call it a night. Denise and Tara headed off hand in hand, Glenn and Maggie snuggled up and crossed the street, and Sasha and Abraham had ducked out hours ago due to early shifts in the morning. Michonne and Rick woke Enid and Carl, Carl sleepily said good night to Enid and carried his sister inside the house to her room, and Rick bent down to collect Carol, not wanting to wake her, but Daryl intervened.

"I got her." He climbed the steps soundlessly.

"I don't mind." Rick moved to pick her up.

"I got her." He flitted to the other side and gently scooped her up, and Rick watched Carol curl against him in her sleep, and he repressed a smile. "Night."

"Good night." He watched Daryl carry her inside, and his grin slipped free. He chuckled and ran a hand down his chin, rising.

"What's so funny?" Michonne gathered up the blanket Carl had left behind.

"He has no clue what he feels for her." Rick approached her and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Not a damn clue."

"Stop it." Michonne was smiling all the same. "Let him try and figure it out himself. Don't tease him."

"What's the fun in that?"

"It's not about fun. It's about Daryl realizing what she means to him, and I don't think poking at him for it is "fun"." She lightly scolded her boyfriend. "Don't mess with him, Rick."

"I'll try."

"You'd better do more than try."

"Fine, but if he offers me something I can't resist, I'm going for it."

She laughed. "I wonder now who's the child. You or Carl."

"I never had any siblings," he defended. "I'm just makin' up for what I didn't have as a kid."

"If he hits you again, it's going to be justified. Again."

"Probably." He kissed her temple. "I'll go make sure the kids are in bed."

"I'll put the food up."

He kissed her then ambled inside, Michonne folded the blanket and strolled to the kitchen to put the leftovers away, and Daryl lowered Carol down onto his mattress. It was faster and safer than trying to get her upstairs, which was why he took her from Rick. He didn't know where he was planning on putting her, likely not in her own bed, but Daryl's bed was more comfortable than the couch. She also seemed to sleep better in his bed than her own. It might be the company. She would have been used to sleeping next to someone, as she and Tobin had...

That burning rage flared up in his chest again, and he couldn't breathe. He didn't like this. He knew what this was, but he couldn't comprehend why he was feeling it when he thought about Carol and Tobin. He cared for Carol, of course. She was one of the most important people in his life. She'd been with him through so much, and she and he had an understanding, a bond. He loved her, like he loved Rick and Merle and Judith and the rest of their family. It wasn't weird to love your best friend, but it was fucking weird to be jealous because they used to be with someone else. It wasn't like Tobin and Carol were best friends, it wasn't like Tobin had replaced him in any way, so it didn't make any sense.

Yet the thought of them together, of her touching him and kissing him and having sex with him made his blood boil and his stomach clench. Tobin was good to her. He was kind of an asshole to Daryl, but he knew Tobin was good to Carol. He couldn't be this angry over them being together for months. It happened, and it's over, but it wasn't, because he was still livid at the thought of Tobin undressing her and kissing her and being with her in that way. It wasn't over for him, and he didn't know why.

Carol rolled over in bed, facing him, and he studied her. She looked so peaceful, her silver hairs mussed ever so slightly, and she moaned softly, a sleepy sound. He smiled at how adorable she was, and his heart ached and swelled at the same time.

He wondered if Tobin ever watched her sleep. He would have had a lot of opportunities. He probably just slept beside her. He probably didn't even realize what he had, how special and wonderful and amazing Carol was. He only saw the side she wanted him to see, so of course he didn't look deep enough into her eyes to see what was really going on with her. He didn't press when she looked out of focus, and he didn't know to check in on her to see if she was okay—really, truly, genuinely okay. He just swallowed the lies she told. If Daryl had been there the way she let Tobin be there for her, he could have—

He ceased that thought straightaway and moved away from Carol and the bed. Did he just...? He stumbled out of the room, passing Rick and Michonne, and he found himself outside. He gripped the railing and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment.

He was jealous of what Tobin and Carol had. He knew this feeling was jealousy, as he'd felt it his entire life with Merle. He never felt good enough, and he always envied how easily charm and lies and quips and strength came to Merle. He was so skilled, so intelligent, and Daryl didn't stand a chance. He could never catch up, and it made him so goddamn jealous of him. But he loved his brother so he didn't let it show.

However Merle wasn't Tobin. Merle hadn't had sex with Carol, hadn't lived with Carol, hadn't swallowed her lies and been happy with them. It was Tobin. He had done all of those things, and it caused an ravenous storm of envy and what he thought might be hate to course through him like blood. He envied the relationship he and Carol had, but it wasn't a relationship. He knew that. He was a means to an end, one he didn't know until Tobin blurted it out before the run.

Yet he still was green. Tobin had been fed a lie—several lies—and had a massive misconception of who Carol truly was. There was nothing to envy. Daryl knew the real Carol. He'd stood by her, he had fought with her and beside her, and he had been there through most of her hard times. He could tell she was struggling with something, and he knew it was the girls, as she'd mentioned it. She'd brought it up, almost pressuring him to ask what happened, tempting him, but he knew she wasn't ready, so he didn't. He knew her that well, so why in fuck was he jealous of Tobin?! The only difference in their respective relationships with Carol was one was romance and one was friendship.

He dragged his hands through his hair and flung off the porch, stomping down the street.

––

Denise closed the door to Enid's room and headed downstairs to turn off the lights. She knew Tara was already out cold, as a big meal always put her right to sleep, and she smiled at the thought of her all passed out under the covers, probably hogging the good pillows.

She heard a knock on the door, and she opened it to find Maggie standing there with an apologetic smile on her lips. "Maggie."

"I'm not wakin' you up, am I?"

"No, no. I haven't been to bed yet." She moved aside to show her in, and she closed the door. "Enid's crashing over here with us, so I made sure she found the right bed."

"She's tryin' to give me and Glenn some...privacy." She crossed her arms and sat on the couch. "She still has her room with Olivia, but she's moved a lot of her stuff into our home. I don't mind. I love havin' her over. She's like family to me."

"She's been there for you since the miscarriage. Of course she's family."

Maggie nodded. "She's with y'all 'cause of me and Glenn."

"What do you mean?"

"Enid's a teenager. She knows all about sex and adult relationships, so she wants to give us space to do that." She lowered her eyes. "It's not that easy."

"You two aren't...?"

She nodded. "Not since before we lost the baby." She sat back. "Everythin' else is normal again, but we haven't...gotten that part of our relationship back. I love him, and he loves me, and we've gotten back so much, but it just feels..."

"Feels?" Denise pressed.

"When Enid stayed with us, we used it as an excuse. We weren't havin' sex 'cause we had a teenager down the hall. Now that she's with you and Tara...it's the elephant in the room, and it's only gettin' bigger." She met Denise's eyes. "I'm ready to try, but...I'm also not."

"What are you afraid of?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know."

"Do you want my opinion?"

"Yes."

"It'll happen when it happens. I know that's clichéd, and it's not helpful, but you and Glenn went through something traumatic. It's like a car accident. You've gone through the physical therapy, and you've been given a clean bill of health, but you're scared to get back on the road. It's perfectly normal. You just have to give it time, and when it's right, that...spark will come back, and your anxiety won't drown it out."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. Don't try and force it. It'll happen when it's right."

She exhaled and nodded. "Okay. Thank you." She stood up. "I'm sorry to have come over out of the blue."

"Don't worry about it. I'm glad to help." She showed her out and locked up once Maggie fell out of sight. She continued on her way to turn the lights off in the clinic, and she heard someone in the house. They were down here with her. It wasn't Enid or Tara. The footsteps were too heavy, so it was a man. She nearly panicked, but she saw who the man was and calmed, sending him a glare for his rude entrance.

"You can't use a front door? Or knock?" Denise chastised. "You nearly gave me a heart attack! At least make a nose or call out."

Daryl didn't reply, just glumly hovered in the living room.

"Are you okay?"

He shook his head silently.

"Have a seat." She motioned at the couch and seated herself in the chair. "Had I known I'd have clients, I would have started charging."

"Money's useless."

"Yes, but I could have you all bring me items back from runs." She tucked loose hair behind her ear. "What's wrong with you? You look...miserable."

"Did you tell her?" Daryl picked at his nails, not answering the question. "Tara? Did you tell her?"

I could've gone with Tara. I could have told her I loved her, but I didn't, because I was afraid.

She slowly nodded.

"That's good." He chewed on his bottom lip.

"What's this about?"

"How'd you know?"

"Know what?" She felt like they were working on the same puzzle, but he had hidden major pieces of it from her. She was so lost. "What are you talking about?"

"I think... I think I do too."

Denise stared at him with narrows eyes, drowning in her own bewilderment, and he finally raised his head, and she saw the depth of emotions swimming around there. Her heart tightened, and she finally realized what and who he was talking about. She would have cheered if he didn't look so tortured. She didn't know what the hell had happened prior to this realization but clearly it wasn't pleasant.

"When did you find this out?"

"I've...uh, been thinkin'," he replied in a low tone. "Thinkin' about this for three weeks...since the funerals, and...tonight it hit me. I didn't like him 'cause I was jealous of what he had with her. Because I—I wanted it with her too..."

Denise nodded him on.

"But real, you know? I don't want the fake smiles and the walls. I don't want her...pretendin'. I want the real her, the woman I've known since Merle and me found the quarry. I know it won't be pretty 'cause a lot of shit went down after the we lost our last home—hell, even before then—but I want to know it. It's part of her, and...I want to know that part too." He rubbed his thighs, his heart pounding at his admissions, but it was light for the first time since he saw Carol outside the gate with blood on her clothes and carrying a bag, and his lips twitched to form the smallest of smiles. "I lo—I love... I love her."

"You love her," Denise repeated, smiling at Daryl. "Does she have a name?"

He dropped his eyes, his heart pounding in his ears, and he swallowed. "Carol."

"And this just hit you tonight?"

He shook his head. "The first time...was back at the prison. I thought I'd lost her, and...after all those months on the farm and those months on the road...to have lost her in our new home, I just couldn't..." Another head shake. "But then I found her. She was alive, dehydrated and weak, but she was alive. I carried her out of the cell she'd been trapped in by a walker corpse blocking the door, and then I had to leave. I told her to stay safe, and I really looked at her for a moment...how happy and alive she looked, how she held Judith, and I knew something had changed, just didn't know what until now."

"You didn't know what it was?"

"I've never...gotten close enough to feel this way about anybody before."

"So Carol is the first woman you've loved?"

He bobbed his head to say yes.

"She's very lucky." Denise smiled at him.

"I don't know about that—"

"She is, and so are you. Finding love in this world was never simple task, and since it ended, it's even more impossible, but...you have someone you love. I have Tara. Glenn has Maggie. Rick has Michonne. And vice versa."

"She don't love me in the same way," Daryl argued. "She couldn't."

"You don't know that she doesn't."

"I'm just a friend to her."

"Then show her you can be more." Denise searched his eyes. "She cares about you, Daryl, and it's enough to have caused Tobin to dislike you. It's enough to make people question what your relationship actually is. You can't deny that, so stop being self-deprecating. You don't know until you try."

"I don't wanna push her to do somethin' she ain't comfortable with."

"And she wouldn't let you." She moved beside him. "Just promise me you'll give this a shot before you dismiss it entirely. You don't know how she'll react, and I'm not saying jump her, but...test the waters, see how she responds. You're good at tracking animals and getting in their heads, so try getting into her head."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "It ain't that easy."

"You haven't tried."

He huffed then dropped his hand. "And if she don't feel the same? If I'm like a brother to her or some shit like that?"

"Then...I'll be here to help you through it." She offered him an encouraging smile. "I doubt it'll come to that, but I am here for you."

He nodded, feeling sick to his stomach now, and he swallowed. "All right then."

– – –

The following morning, Maggie, Michonne, Carol and Daryl departed for Hilltop. Carol was in the backseat with Maggie, Daryl was driving, and Michonne was looking over the final plans for the hospital run. It had come together perfectly, right to a point where they would meet up if it all went to pot. She wasn't thrilled to be doing it, but it would work. One way or another, it would work.

"This all seems feasible," Michonne commented to Daryl, folding the map up.

"It should be." Maggie moved hair from her eyes. "He and Denise have been workin' on it for weeks now. We all know it'll be a challenge in practice, but in theory and on paper it looks good. Glenn's been talkin' about it, and I think I might come too."

"Are you sure?" Daryl glanced at her in the rear view mirror.

"I'm sure. I could use some time out of Alexandria that aren't visits to Hilltop, and I want to be there for Glenn. I want to be there for all of us." She smiled to herself, glancing at Carol. "And I think Carol could use a break from me poppin' in on her."

"I don't mind as much." Carol offered a weak smile. "I guess I'm just used to it."

Daryl peered back at her through the mirror and swallowed hard, focusing again on the road, and Michonne noticed how concentrated he was on driving. She frowned and nearly asked what had happened, but she didn't want him to go off on anybody in the small car. He wasn't upset about Maggie tagging along, so...he was upset with Carol? Or he was upset by Carol's reaction. That half-hearted smile. It was upsetting, she'd admit. Carol was so tired here lately, so out of it, and nobody knew why. Michonne thought maybe it was sleeping in Daryl's bed, but the night she did sleep in the same bed with Daryl, she slept great. She woke up refreshed, but this morning she yawned into her breakfast and looked dreadful. She still did.

"You sleep okay?" Michonne asked Carol.

"I mostly tossed and turned." She shrugged a shoulder. "I'm okay. I'll be in my own bed tonight."

"You weren't last night?" Maggie inquired.

"No. I woke up in Daryl's room, so I guess I fell asleep after dinner."

"Where did Daryl sleep?"

"I slept on the couch." He actually hadn't slept much at all either.

"That's why you both look awful." Maggie rested her hands in her lap. "The couch is a terrible place to sleep, and so is an empty, cold bed."

"I've always slept alone," Carol reminded Maggie.

"Not always." Maggie pressed her lips together, unintentionally letting her thoughts on her and Glenn slip out. "Uh, never mind."

Michonned noted how Daryl's grip on the wheel tightened on Maggie's comment, and she had a feeling she would have to have a word with Daryl when they arrived at the Hilltop. That, or they would have to pry his hands off the steering wheel one finger at a time when they got home.

At Hilltop, Maggie and Carol began the walk toward Harlan's, and Michonne stopped Daryl from joining them. She pulled him to the side, he was trying to argue, but she wouldn't let him get a word out.

"You like her," Michonne stated to get him to stop trying to argue with her and listen. "You have feelings for Carol."

He blanched.

"You don't need to worry. I won't say anything." She offered a smirk. "I have to admit I'm surprised you realized it. I'm guessing it happened recently. Like last night?"

He swallowed hard. "How—?"

"Because you slept with Carol the last time she was in your room, but you chose the couch last night? I knew something had happened when I saw that, but I didn't...think it was this." Her smirk became a smile. "Are you going to tell her?"

"Not yet."

"Good. You should take some time and figure out just what you're feelings are. Rushing into this like a bull in a China shop is dangerous for both of you, especially since Carol's expecting." She stepped toward him. "Take it slow, but not so slow that any chance of it dies, okay?"

He watched her skirt around him to catch up to Maggie and Carol, and he decided then that both Michonne and Denise were shit at giving him advice.

––

Maggie and Michonne were waiting outside the office, Daryl asked if everything was all right, and they said it was fine, to just go in. He opened the door and found Carol and Harlan inside, and he wondered why they hadn't gotten started.

It's been a mystery but still they try to see why something good can hurt so bad

Caught on a one-way street, the taste of bittersweet. Love will survive somehow, somewhere

"We were waiting on you. Carol told me what happened to the father, and I'm so sorry for your loss."

"We weren't that close," Daryl admitted. "We really only had one thing in common."

"I'm still sorry."

"Yeah, me too. He...didn't deserve what happened."

"Yeah." Harlan cleared his throat and gestured behind him. "I'm sorry about the music. The knob is broken, and I haven't had time to fix it."

"It's fine." Carol leaned back on the gurney.

"Are you two ready?"

"Yeah." Daryl stood beside her. "Are you?"

She looked at him, a cool gell being squirted on onto her belly, and she nodded, reaching over to grasp his hand. "Yeah."

"All right. Let's see how everything's looking."

One love, feeds the fire. One heart, burns desire. Wonder, who's crying now?

Two hearts, born to run. Who'll be the lonely one? Wonder, who's crying now?

Daryl's eyes fell on the screen, Carol's hand tightened around his, and he gave into temptation and interlocked their fingers, holding them close to his chest. His heart soared at the sight of the baby, and he was surprise how different it looked now. It was looked more like a really little person now and less like a dot. It was amazing how much it'd changed. It was kind of like a curled up shrimp. He wouldn't tell Carol that. He didn't know if that would upset her or not, and he didn't want to find out. It was a good thing, or he meant for it to be. It probably wouldn't sound good if he were to verbalize it. The thought of it wasn't all that great either.

Harlan went through and showed them what was what, Carol appeared to already know, but Daryl was fascinated by it. Carol spent most of the time watching him and trying not to laugh, and when the baby moved, she wished she'd had a camera to capture that moment, because it was perfect. He was so enthralled and so amazing, and Carol couldn't keep her eyes off his face throughout the entire check up.

So many stormy nights. So many wrong or rights. Neither could change their headstrong ways

And in a lover's rage they tore another page, the fighting is worth the love they save

"I'd estimate the baby is around nine weeks, five days. Give or take a few days." Harlan stepped into the back room and returned wth something Daryl didn't recongize. "Would you like to try and hear the heartbeat? It's only nine weeks, so it'll be tricky, but it's up to you."

"Why not?" Carol was interested to see how Daryl would react to this.

"Okay."

"What is that?" Daryl asked in a whisper.

"It's a Doppler. Obviously you use it to hear the baby's heartbeat." Carol figured he'd found one while out on a run. She'd seen some like it when she was shopping for Sophia. She'd never bought one, but she had a few friends she'd made in Lamaze who had purchased it. She'd been invited over to give it a try, but of course Ed wouldn't allow that.

"You'll hear a lot of different and weird sounds," Harlan told the pair. "Whooshing and the placenta, even Carol's heartbeat, but you'll definitely be able to tell the baby's heartbeat from the mother's."

"The placenta?" Daryl's nose scrunched. "What the hell?"

Carol laughed. "Shh."

He quieted as Harlan began the search for the baby's heartbeat, and Daryl could hear a slow beat. Harlan said that was Carol's heartbeat, and Daryl wondered how the baby's would sound. Harlan assured them the differentiation was blatant, but he wasn't so sure. There were weird sounds, like he said, but not one so different that he could—

Daryl's thought ended at the sound of rapid thumping. It almost sounded like a train starting up. A little train inside of her, and his breathing slowed. He didn't want to overpower the sound of the baby's racing heart, and he studied the pale skin closely, remembering the little shrimp from the sonogram. He couldn't explain the heat flooding his eyes, and he couldn't explain the smile he didn't know he had, but he did know without a shadow of a doubt he loved this child. He adored this unborn baby, and he adored its mother. He loved them both so much he felt sick from it. Any vow he'd made with himself to keep them safe amplified in that moment.

Carol smiled tenderly at Daryl whose eyes were misting over, and she knew that no matter what would happen in months to come, she would savor this time. She would savor these moments as if they were her last, because of all the things she'd seen, of all that things she'd done in this world now, none had ever made her feel quite like this.

Only so many tears you can cry 'til the heartache is over

And now you can say your love will never die


	21. Familiar

Harlan gave them a moment to collect themselves and to try and silence his stereo, Daryl tried to inconspicuously wipe at his eyes, and Carol cleaned the gell off her belly and fastened her pants, sitting up. She looked over at Daryl, and she smiled at how he was "scratching" the bridge of his nose.

"I asked him to do it again for Maggie and Michonne before you came in," Carol told him. "But I have to use the bathroom first, so why don't you get them?"

"Sure." He cleared his throat. "I'll get 'em."

"Thank you."

He paused by the door and glanced over at her, smiling to himself, and he stepped out to retrieve Maggie and Michonne. Once Carol had finished in the bathroom, Harlan did the Doppler again, but not the sonogram, which they were both fine with. Michonne hadn't been sure she'd wanted to see either, because of how emotional she might get, but she was pleased to have come inside and heard it. It did cause a stinging in her chest, but it was worth it.

Maggie held Carol's hand and smiled widely, thoroughly captivated by the sound of the baby's heartbeat, and she was nearly in tears at the same time. It was incredible, and she couldn't wait until the next time they were here at Hilltop for her and Glenn again. She wasn't ready to start trying again, but she wasn't going to not try ever again. She wanted to have kids. She wanted to expand the family she had with Glenn with their own children. And one day they would.

They loaded up into the car afterward, Carol thanked Harlan, and he once more offered his condolences. She smiled thankfully and climbed into the backseat with Maggie. Michonne drove towards home, and Carol drifted off to the rumble of the engine a few minutes out of the Hilltop. Daryl smiled at her through the rear view mirror, which wasn't lost on Maggie or Michonne. They didn't say anything, didn't tease him on what he was looking at, but they did share a secret smile of their own. One Daryl noticed, but he didn't ask it was for. He'd rather just keep silent and let Carol get her rest.

Once they'd returned to Alexandria, Maggie woke Carol despite Daryl insisting he could just carry her inside to his bedroom to let her sleep, and Carol rubbed at her eye. Maggie guided her to the house to talk to her, and Michonne pulled the car around.

"Hey," Glenn jogged over, "how'd it go?"

"It went good." He held out the sonogram Harlan had given him. "It's nine weeks."

"It looks so different." He smiled at the little human. "That's incredible."

"We were able to hear the heartbeat," Daryl enthused. "That was incredible. It was like a train. It was so fast and so different from Carol's. It was...just real incredible."

Glenn smiled at the man. "Do you have baby fever, Daryl?"

He glared. "I'm just happy for her is all."

"Come on, you can be honest with me. I know you practically stepped up to the Daddy plate after Tobin...passed. You can be excited about this. I'm excited for her." He returned the sonogram. "I think you'll do great."

"I don't know, but I'll try." He tucked it into his breast pocket.

"That's all anybody can do." He slipped his hands into his jean pockets. "I know a lot has happened the last couple of weeks, and I want to thank you for being there for me. I know you didn't like Tobin, and he wasn't too fond of you, but I really appreciate you being there."

"Don't mention it, short round."

He chuckled and nodded. "I have to show Enid how to tend the horse properly. She passed her latest exam, and it's a reward. I'll take her riding once she'd gotten this taken care of."

"Who's been takin' care of it till now?"

"Gabriel. Sometimes Morgan." Daryl nodded. "Enid wants to give it a shot, so when she's not studying she has something else to do. If you'll excuse me."

"Yeah, have fun with that."

"I will." Truth be told he was fond of Enid. She was like the sisters he had growing up, only it was reverse. He was the older one, and she was the baby. Nevertheless he liked her a lot, had a soft spot for her and wanted to keep her safe. He didn't smother her, but he did like teaching her. He liked helping her study, the look in her eyes when she finally grasped an unknown term or muscle, and he wanted to be there for her in other ways too. Like tending to the horse, teaching her to ride. It was almost paternal what he felt for Enid, and he knew by watching Maggie she felt the same maternal affection toward her. Enid might feel they were just being kind, and that was okay, but without knowing it, she was helping to fill a hole their miscarried child left behind. For that, he'd always be grateful. For that, he'd keep that girl safe and fed and warm, like he'd do for his own children one day.

Daryl bounded up the stairs to the house, and he nearly walked smack into Carol. "Shit, I'm sorry." He held her upper arms to keep her from tripping backwards.

"No, that was on me." She set her hand on his chest, the other over her own heart. "I was coming out to ask you a question."

"Uh, sure. What is it?"

"Maggie's going to find ingredients for me to make cookies since I can't go outside the wall. Would you like to learn how to make them?" She studied him. "In case I can't make them for the baby."

"In case you can't make 'em?"

"Say I'm sick and he or she wants a cookie, do you really want to hurt their feelings because you don't know how to make them?" She cocked her head to the side and smiled sweetly at him. "Well?"

He sighed, though that smile was doing funny things to his pulse. "All right, I can...do that."

"She's going out tomorrow, so I'll find you after." She let her hand slid down his chest and to her side. "I'll see you at dinner."

"Where are you goin'? Tobin's?"

"I've had enough fresh air for today. I'm just going to my room to work on the blanket." She stepped back. "You don't have to bring me tea or anything. I'll be fine, and I can get my own drinks."

He nodded. "I was only tryin' to help."

"I know, and I appreciate it, but I just kind of want to be alone right now. It's been a big day, very emotional for all of us, and I just...need some time to myself."

"All right. We'll holler up to you for dinner."

"Thanks." She turned on her heel and padded up the stairs.

Test the waters, Daryl thought to himself, remembering what Denise had told him. See how she responds. Okay, how the hell was he going to do that? How the hell was he going to test the waters? It's not like he could ask her flat out, and he didn't know how to test the tests. It wasn't like he had loads of experience or had anybody to ask. He couldn't tell them he loved her, and he couldn't ask that type of question without giving a lot away, so what the hell was he going to do?

– – –

Maggie sat on a bale of hay Abraham had found, watching Enid and Glenn groom the horse, and she was looking over the list of ingredients for Carol's cookies. She knew where to find most of it, but they'd have to go outside the walls for some of it. She'd enlisted Glenn and Enid to help with her ingredients hunt, and they weren't too thrilled, but it was like a fun family activity—they'd just have to deal with it.

"When I was a kid," Enid told Maggie and Glenn, "I always wanted a horse. I only got the plastic ones, and my dad always said he'd take me out to ride a real one when I was old enough. But I was never old enough, and the world died on us, so..."

"You have a chance now." Glenn nudged her. "I'll teach you."

She returned with a half-hearted smile.

"Maybe one day you'll have a horse of your own," Maggie commented. "One to take care of and name and train."

"You think?" Enid gently pulled the brush through his mane.

"I know." She smiled at the girl. "Glenn's a good teacher, so I'll try not to stress about this."

"I'll take good care of both of them." He saddled the horse. "And it's not like I decided to take her outside the wall. I just don't want to leave a dung trail through town."

"Be home before the sun sets." She rose off the bale, shoving the list into her back pocket. She patted the horse's behind and reached over, tugging the zipper to Enid's jacket up and earning an eye roll. "It's gettin' colder out there, so don't roll your eyes at me."

Enid smiled. "I'll be fine."

"I'm just makin' sure." She smoothed down her hood. "I'll ask Carol to make you a scarf. It might put me at ease."

"Come on, Maggie, she'll be fine." Glenn reached over and carefully pulled Enid to him to help her mount to the horse. "All right, put your foot in the stirrup. I've got you. You won't fall back."

She inhaled and hoisted herself up. "Whoa." She nearly slid from the force, but Glenn caught her hoodie and yanked her upright. "Thanks."

"Yeah, she'll be fine." Maggie sent him a slight glare. "Be careful."

"We will be." He kissed her goodbye and stroked her cheek. "We'll be back by dinner."

"Have fun." She opened the stable door for them.

"We will." Enid was grinning. "Bye, Maggie."

Glenn lead the horse out of the stable and toward the gate, Maggie could feel stress seeping out of her every pore, but she trusted Glenn's ability to teach. She knew they could take care of themselves, and they would be home soon. Until then she had a job herself, which involved gathering the last of Enid's things from Olivia's and moving it into her and Glenn's home. She might enroll Tara to help. She missed spending time with her, and she wanted to make up for how bitchy she'd been upon Tara and Heath's return from their run.

––

Rick padded down the steps toward Michonne and Judith, Michonne could tell he wasn't in a great mood, and she adjusted Judy in her arms, though she was getting too big to be held all the time. She would be walking on them soon, and then they'd really have to keep an eye on her.

"What's wrong?" Michonne asked when he came off the last step.

"Carol."

"What about Carol?"

"I went to check up on her, and she's in a crabby mood."

"I told you to be gentle about the check ups."

"Yeah, I know." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I thought I was, but apparently not."

"What'd she say?"

"A lot of things, and not one was nice." He smirked. "Guess the mood swings are in full effect. She seemed happy when they got back."

"Or...you walked into her room without knocking and put her in a bad mood," Michonne suggested.

"It could be that too."

"It's not always the pregnancy and the hormones that put women in bad moods. Why don't you give it some time and start knocking. I'm sure she'll be a little less annoyed with the check ups."

"Or I could leave 'em to Maggie."

"There's that too."

He chuckled. "There's some stuff to make another smoothie. I'll toss one together with a note, knock and leave it by the door as an apology."

"That's a good idea."

"I just hope no one else tries to bother her. It ain't gonna end pretty."

––

"Just so you know, quality time together doesn't involve moving things," Tara jested, leaning on the dresser in Enid's old bedroom and filling a box with her things. "I would have accepted a few of Carol's cookies and a hug."

Maggie dropped to her knees and collected the comics from underneath the bed. "I just want to get this out of the way, and you don't have anythin' better to do, do you?" She smirked when Tara didn't answer. "And I wanted you here to help me."

"And Rosita's too busy screwing Rebound Boy."

Maggie laughed. "What?"

"Tall, dark, and whiny." She smiled. "You know who I'm talking about."

"I don't know him well enough to say that's an accurate description of him, but yes, I know who you're talking about." She neatly stacked the comics and placed them into the box, rising. "She can sleep with whoever she wants to sleep with. She's an adult."

"She's reckless. He's a guy, and hot sex is totally fine with him, but...for her? It's not going to end well. She's not even working through what happened with Abraham."

"What do you mean?"

"She's only sleeping with Spencer. She's not...going through it. She and Sasha don't even speak, and she avoids Abraham. She's pulling in, and I'm worried about her. She's a tough cookie, but Gorgeous is going to snap like a twinge at the wrong comment."

"Have you tried talkin' to her?"

"Yes, many times, but she assures me she's fine." Tara sighed and flicked through the items in the box. "She's going to hold it all in until she explodes."

"You're really worried about her." Maggie stopped working to meet Tara's gaze.

"I am. I've tried asking Denise to talk to her, but Denise says Rosita will come to one of us when she's ready." She put a hand on her hip. "But she won't. That's not who she is."

"I'll try and talk to her. I've been through some rough break ups. I might be able to help."

"Good luck. I'm not saying you can't get into her head, but good luck." She picked up the box. "I'm done with this side of the room, so I'll just take this over."

"Tara, you completely missed her games."

"She's going to be a doctor. She won't have time for that."

"Tara, please."

"Fine, but I sleep with the town doctor, so I know her lesson plan, and I'm telling you the kid will have no time for...whatever the hell this is." She picked up and read over the summary.

Maggie looked over her shoulder at the sound of feet, Daryl entered the room, and she blinked, doing a double take to make sure it was the right man. It was. What the hell was he doing in Enid's room?

"I needa talk to one of y'all," he mumbled, looking embarrassment as all hell.

"What about?" Tara tried not to snicker or grin at his appearance, because the poor guy looked so damn uncomfortable and flustered.

He pressed his lips together then shook his head. "Never mind." He fled from the room.

"Daryl?" Maggie hurried after him and caught his arm. "Hey, wait."

"It's nothin'."

"It's not nothin'. You look...just awful." She studied his pale face and red cheeks. He looked simply sick from embarrassment and unease, and she could only imagine how he felt. "What's goin' on?"

"I need some...advice." He couldn't meet her eyes. "How'd you...and Glenn...?"

Maggie laughed, knowing the question without having heard the end of it. "We had sex in the pharmacy."

He blinked. That didn't help him at all. "I should go."

"Wait, why do you want to know how we started?" She caught his eye and a grin crept across her lips. "You...and Carol?"

"No, not me and Carol, just...just me," he muttered.

"That's amazin', Daryl." Her grin soften into a compassionate smile. "If it's advice you need, I can't offer much. Carol and I are two different women, but if you want to get her attention, just try to be subtle. Let her...come to you, you know? She's...goin' through a lot right now, her body's workin' constantly, and you have to be understandin' about that."

He nodded. "How...do I be subtle?"

"Just do little things for her."

Like what? He wanted to demand, but he didn't. "All right."

"You can't be as direct as I was with Glenn. I don't think that'd work out well, but you have to find your own way. You know Carol better than most, so really the only one who can help you is you." She shrugged her shoulders. "You could try takin' a few pages from Glenn or Rick, but in the end...only you know how to go about this. It's obvious Carol made the first move with Tobin, even if he thought he did, and she had a plan in mind during that relationship, so...it's kinda really up to you."

"And if she don't feel the same? Won't I just ruin everythin'?" he murmured.

"No. If she doesn't feel the same, she'll probably give you some time to try and move, and eventually you'll find your relationship back to what it was. Carol wouldn't want to lose you entirely."

His mind reflected that day on the farm following his accident with Nervous Nelly. I can't lose you too. Her big blue eyes filled with tears at the thought of it and at his relentless attitude toward finding Sophia. How she'd run forward when he'd tossed the saddle and pulled on his stitches, how he swatted her away, insulting her on his way out.

"Are you okay?" Maggie could see he was lost in his thoughts.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He stepped back. "I gotta go."

"All right. I hope I helped."

He nodded and headed out.

"So," Tara drew when Maggie returned to Enid's room, "what was that about?"

Maggie beamed. "Romance."

"Romance, huh?" Tara teased. "Then why'd he come to you?"

Maggie glared playfully at her. "I know a thing or two, all right?"

"Yeah, but it's Daryl. He's not like you. He's the opposite of direct and to the point. He's...beat around the bush guy. At least when it comes to romance, and I've never seen him try to romance anyone. It's just the kind of vibe he gives off."

"He'll find his own way to do it. I just gave him a little push."

"Let's hope it wasn't into a volcano."

– – –

Carl and Michonne were setting the table that night, Rick was pulling the dish out of the oven Michonne had prepared, and Michonne caught a glimpse of Daryl in the living room on the floor. She blinked and neared him, finding him on the floor with Judith. It would have been a cute moment had he not looked so demoralized and depressed. She told Carl to finish up and approached them.

"It's about time for dinner." She knelt down beside them. "Why don't you get washed up?"

"I ain't too hungry." He let Judy have the toy they'd been playing with. "I'll let you get her cleaned up."

"Did something happen?" She sat beside Judith and searched his eyes. "Did you...tell her?"

He shook his head. "Didn't get around to it. She just gave me the boot."

"She's been short-tempered all day. Rick started it by walking into her room without knocking. I'm sure it wasn't you." She collected Judith. "Now get cleaned up for dinner."

He shook his head. "I'm gonna take a ride. I'll be back by noon tomorrow."

"Noon tomorrow?" Michonne's brows shot up. "Where are you going?"

"I just need some time and some air." He stood up. "It might take me longer to get back, but I'll try and make it back by tomorrow."

"Daryl." Michonne shot up to stop him. "Da—"

"What's going on?" Carol stood by the steps, having heard Michonne's tone. "Is everything okay?" Her eyes moved from Daryl to Michonne.

"It's fine." He drew closer to her. "I'm just gonna be out for a bit."

"Out?" She frowned. "Where is out exactly?"

"I just needa get some air, get my head on straight, but I'll be back. I'll try to be back by tomorrow, but if I ain't, I took a couple more days."

"Days?" She gaped. "Daryl, what's wrong?"

"It ain't what's wrong." He met her eyes. "It's just what I need right now."

She understood, but she didn't like it. "Okay."

He moved away from her, keeping eye contact until he turned to open the door, and he disappeared out of it. Carol dropped her gaze to the floor, and Michonne frowned and Carol could imagine him riding out on his bike. She didn't know what was going on with him, but she hoped this trip helped to clear his head. He'd been acting peculiar all day, and now this? She had only seen him once since they got back, but maybe she was the cause. She had been short with everyone since Rick came to check on her. She hadn't meant to be, and she thought she'd been a little more gentle with Daryl than with Rick, but perhaps not. She hoped if that was the case she hadn't hurt his feelings.

"He'll be back." Michonne set a hand on Carol's shoulder. "Until then it's time for dinner."

She nodded and followed her to the kitchen, her eyes moving back to the door a moment later. She inhaled and decided to talk to him when he got back. If he wanted to talk to her.

Outside the wind that had been whipping up all day picked up, white clouds turning black, and thunder rumbling through the sky with flashes of lightening. The sky opened out and heavy rain poured down on them.

Glenn guided the horse back to the stable, dropping Enid off at home so she wouldn't get as soaked. He then bolted through the ran back home, finding both Enid and Maggie on the porch. Enid was wrapped in a towel, and Maggie was waiting for him with more towels. He shook the water from his hair, chuckling as he dragged a hand through it to get it out of his face, and Maggie wrapped the towel around his shoulders. She then slipped her arm around Enid's shoulders and escorted her inside to the fireplace to keep warm, rubbing her shoulder.

Maggie tossed a blanket over Enid's towel as she wasn't soaked to the bone like Glenn. "Stay here until you're dry."

"I will." Enid curled up in front of the fire. "How's Glenn?"

"In the shower. I'm going to make something hot for y'all to eat. Let's just hope you didn't catch anythin' out there." She added another log to the fire. She had to get ingredients for Carol tomorrow. She didn't want to deny that pregnant woman cookie ingredients, so she hoped the rain didn't make it terribly muddy out, or she'd been sliding for ingredients instead of looking for them.

– – –

Carol woke up in her own bed that morning, rain dripping from the roof to the ground, and she wasn't sure she'd slept at all. The rain had been a pleasant melody, but sadly it wasn't enough to chase off her nightmares. Last night's had been especially merciless, and she felt shaken by it. She couldn't wander the streets last night, as she used to when she couldn't—or didn't want to—sleep. All there was to do was sleep or read, and her eyes were tired. Yet somehow they were even more tired now.

She pushed the blanket back and sat up, her hand finding the little lump on her belly. She didn't know how shaken she was until that moment. That nightmare had been so vivid. She could feel the knife stab through...

"Carol?" It was Carl.

"You can come in."

He opened the door and smiled as a greeting. "Morning."

She weakly returned his smile. "Morning."

"Breakfast isn't ready yet, but I wanted to let you know that in case you're hungry now. I can make you something really quick."

"That's sweet, but I'm okay. I'm a little queasy this morning."

He nodded. "Well, I'm watching Judith, so I'll be here if you need anything."

"Thank you."

He stepped back and pulled her door closed. He headed downstairs to where Enid studied with Judith in her lap, and he smiled, watching his baby sister make it damn impossible for Enid to be able to focus. He chuckled and reached over, picking her up, and Enid thanked him.

"You're welcome." He sat beside her on the floor. "You do know you can work in the clinic, right?"

"Tara and Denise and Glenn and Maggie are in there. It's about time for the hospital run, and they're crossing off a few last-minute items or routes. I couldn't hear myself think over their voices." She peeked at him. "Besides...I like it here."

He caught Judy's little fist before it smacked him, and his smile widened. "I...like having you here." He felt his cheeks flushing. "And so does Judith. She gets to play with someone other than me and Michonne."

"Well, one day she'll have friend to play with." Enid smiled at the girl. "It won't be for a while though, even after birth."

"I'll manage until then." He handed her one of the toys scattered on the floor to entertained Judy, glancing over at Enid as she returned to her studies, and he almost spoke when Judith crashed into him with a stuffed teddy bear. Well, Judith didn't like him having his attention divided, that was for certain.

––

"He left?" Maggie whirled around to face Michonne who was on the wall, waiting for Glenn and Enid to lend her a hand with collecting ingredients for Carol's cookies. "Last night? Why?"

"I don't know. One minute he's trying to find a way to tell Carol how he feels, and the next he's blowing out of town again."

"I told him to find his own way to show her how he feels, but I didn't mean like this." She heaved a sigh. "How's Carol?"

"She's been in bed most of the day, working on the blanket. Rosita's gone to take her for a walk, stretch her legs, but she seems pretty content with staying in bed. She looked dead this morning, so I'm fine with it. I just wish she could sleep."

"Why can't she sleep?" Maggie inquired in a whisper. "Does she have bad dreams or somethin'?"

"I don't know what it is, but I hope it goes away. We can't give her anything, and warm milk won't cut it." She crossed her arms. "I honestly think Daryl's the only person who can help her."

"And he just skipped town. It could be for a day, for two, but he's still not here, so warm milk will have to do. There's some honey in the pantry, so I'll try and add some in tonight."

"Let's hope it works."

Glenn and Enid arrived then with the list of items Carol normally used, a basket each and dressed in rain boots. It was all they had to protect them against the puddles and the mud, so it'd have to do. It was getting chilly at night, so the last thing they needed was to fall on their asses and catch a cold stumbling back towards the gate.

"I'm sorry we chased you out of your lesson today." Glenn glanced back at Enid who walked beside Maggie, collecting some acorns. "This run is vital, and we had to fill Maggie in."

"It's okay. Carl and Judith kept me company." She brushed some leaves aside. "And I know. This run means a lot to me too, so it's fine. I didn't need much help on this chapter."

"How do you like it so far?" Maggie stepped over a log.

"It's complex," she admitted. "Denise has to help me with a lot of it, but of course she does. I didn't finish high school before the world ended."

"You're doing great, according to her." Glenn reached over to help Enid and Maggie over a large pit of mud.

"Really?" She smiled. "Denise thinks I'm doing great?"

"Yeah."

"I feel like I'm letting her down. It's so much to remember, and I'm worried I won't know enough when the time comes." She moved loose hair out of her face.

"That's a long time in the future." Maggie glanced at her husband. "You have time to learn all you don't know."

She nodded and bent down for a small bunch of acorns. "It's just my nerves."

Glenn repressed a smile. "And speaking of the future, Enid, we need to talk to you."

She looked up. "What about?"

"It's not bad news," Maggie assured her.

"Okay." She rose. "What's going on?"

"We don't expect to take the places of your parents," Glenn imparted. "We don't even want to try, but we do care about you, Enid. You've been there for us, and you've helped us in a way you can't possible know."

"And there's a reason we didn't want you to go home last night," Maggie added.

She moved her gaze from Glenn to Maggie and back. "What reason is that?"

"We moved your things into the guest bedroom of our home. It's premature, like I told Maggie, but we'd really love if you lived with us. It's not that Olivia doesn't want you in her home anymore, or anything like that," Glenn promised. "It's just that we do. We like having you over, and I like helping you with your homework."

"I love having you around." Maggie crossed her arms. "You just...make my day."

Enid blinked. "You want me to live with you?"

They nodded.

"What is this? You can't have a kid, so I'm the substitute until you do?"

"No." Maggie shook her head. "No, no. That's not it. You're not a substitute for anythin'. We care about you, Enid, and we want you to know that. We want you to be in our family. We don't want to deminish what you had with your parents, and we definitely don't want you to feel like you're a replacement. You're not."

"You mean that?"

"Of course we do." Glenn smiled at her. "Do you think I'd sit up all night to help someone cram for an essay test if I didn't care about them?"

She returned his smile and hugged him.

"Is this a yes?"

She nodded and stepped back to hug Maggie. "Yes, it's a yes."

Maggie grinned and squeezed the young girl in her arms, smoothing down her hair. "Welcome to the family."

Glenn looked on at his wife and Enid, smiling at the not-so-new addition to their little family, and he was grateful they would have the chance to start this journey together. It would be an interesting road, but they were all walking it together, so they would be there through the heartaches and the joy and the dark corners. They would protect each other. He knew Maggie and Enid could take care of themselves without his help, but he wanted to take care of them. He wanted to protect them, and he would. He wouldn't let anything happen to them as long as he breathed.

Glenn rubbed Enid's back when Maggie released her, and they began their search anew. Maggie wasn't sure how much Carol needed, but she figured the more the merrier. If any of them weren't up to snuff, Carol would have plenty to replace it with. And if Carol was sharing the cookies like she normally did, maybe Maggie and Enid and Glenn could get a batch for all their hard work. It was a reward-less offer Maggie had made, but she could hope for one container of cookies.

"Maggie!" Glenn called out.

"Shit!"

Maggie had lost sight of what was happening around her, absorbed in collecting acorns, and she didn't notice the massive puddle of mud she was walking into. She fell flat on her ass, Enid covered her mouth at the sight, and Glenn was trying not to laugh. She didn't blame him, and she would laugh too if she didn't feel the mud slipping into places it should not be.

"Oh, God." Enid stood just outside the rim of the muddy area. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." She sloshed mud off her arm and tried to stand up, sliding. "Whoa!"

Glenn was chuckling now, setting his basket down and reaching for a tree branch. "Hang on."

"That's easy for you to say." She couldn't stand up, just slid here and there trying, and she huffed, happy to have at least rolled over to be on her knees. "Jesus."

"I don't think he can help." Enid giggled at the mess the mud had made on Maggie.

"Here." Glenn leaned out, holding onto a firm branch to keep him steady. "Take my hand."

Maggie reached out to clasp her husband's hand, Enid fished out the basket, and Glenn nearly had Maggie out of the mud when she yanked him down beside her. He looked stunned for a moment, frozen with mud splattered onto the side of his face, and Maggie laughed at him as he'd laughed at her. Enid did laugh this time too, just at how surprised Glenn looked.

"You should know better than to laugh at your wife." She smirked. "I'm a farm girl, and I had a jerk for a brother. I'm used to mud."

He tried to wipe it off his face, but he only managed to smear it. "Honestly I don't know why I didn't expect this."

"Yeah, me either." She tossed some onto his shirt and smiled sweetly at him. "We're not even, but we're both covered."

"Thanks, Mag."

"Any time." She climbed unsteadily to her feet. "Enid, you'll have to hose us off at home."

"Okay." She snickered at the sight of them.

"Unless..." Glenn reached for the young girl, but Enid was faster—and on firm ground—so she avoided him, and he nearly face planted in the mud. "All right. I want out of this."

"Come here." Maggie held her hands out, Glenn took them, and together they managed to get him to his feet without the other falling. Maggie smiled at the messy sight of him, and she tried not to laugh, but she couldn't help it. She guided him toward the log where Enid was waiting for them, and the pair tripped at the same time.

"Oh." Enid winced at the sound of them going down and averted her eyes.

"I think I just twisted my ankle." Maggie groaned. "And my spleen may be dislocated now."

Glenn pushed himself up to hover over her. "Are you okay?"

"If either of those things seem like I'm okay then sure." She rolled her head to the side, the cold mud cradling her head, and she smiled tenderly at him, reaching to cup his cheek. And despite the cold and the wet mud around them, she found she was rather warm. Looking into those beautiful brown eyes kept the cold away, even the chilly breeze that had been blowing, and she stroked his cheek, forgetting momentarily that she was simply wiping mud back and forth on the arch of his cheekbone. She leaned up, he leaned down, mirroring her thoughts, and they kissed.

There was something familiar lingering on the edge of their kiss, Maggie knew instantly what it was, and her smile widened. She pulled Glenn closer, her hand slipping around his shoulders, and she was about to kiss him once more when Enid's voice cut in.

"As romantic as making out in the mud is," Enid suggested, "maybe getting out and avoiding catch the flu would be better. Also we have walkers."

Maggie shot up at the moment of walkers, nearly falling once more, but she stepped out of the mud puddle and wiped the mud off the machete she'd brought. She and Enid tended to the walkers while Glenn waddled his way out of the mud. He was crawling to prevent landing on his ass or his face, and the girls hauled him up. Maggie couldn't brush the mud from his hair without adding more, so she decided to have Enid seriously hose them off outside their home. It was too cold for it, but they had blankets and a shower and they'd be fine. Well, she would. Glenn had a weak immune system, so she might have to nurse him back to health.

Enid walked ahead of them with the baskets, Glenn laced his fingers through Maggie's, and she leaned against him, smiling softly. She knew when the breeze picked up, they'd have to haul ass back home prevent the mud drying in places it shouldn't, but for now...it was nice. It was something simple, but it had been enough. She had Enid in her family, and she and Glenn...found that last part the miscarriage had taken from them. Searching for cookie ingredients definitely had been a good idea.

Back in Alexandria, Enid hosed the pair off as best she could, Glenn didn't even jolt at the icy blast, and Maggie squealed when it smacked her right in the chest, and soon they were clean enough to go inside. Maggie dumped their clothes on the porch to be dealt with later, Enid headed out to deliver the ingredients to Carol—or at least the kitchen of her home—and Glenn and Maggie headed for the shower.

Maggie moaned blissfully at the hot water that shot out of the shower head, stepping into its spray, and Glenn wrapped his arms around her. She leaned back into him, opening her eyes as she nuzzled her head into his neck, and he kissed her temple.

She turned in his arms, cupping his now warm and spotless cheeks and locking her eyes in his. "I love you."

"I love you too."

She grinned and kissed him, pulling him closer, and that old familiar spark returned, just as it had moments ago in the mud. She didn't understand how or why, but it happened. It had come back, and nothing really felt different yet it was. Their entire relationship had transformed. It had overcome, and they were still standing together. She didn't know what other challenges the world would throw at them, but if they could get through this, she was sure they could get through anything.

Soon she wasn't sure if it was the steam of the shower or the potency of his kisses that made it hard to breathe.

– – –

Daryl sought shelter from the storm in an nearby house. He was miles away from Alexandria, and he wasn't entirely sure he'd made the correct choice. It was his make, and he was the only one who could help him, as Maggie had said. He had tried other people's approach to romance to no avail. He wasn't like them, and they weren't like them, so he had to do this the only way he thought—maybe—would work.

He'd watched Rick and Michonne at breakfast, picking at his oatmeal more than eating it, and he'd tried not to notice Carol sitting beside him. She had a delicate way of eating, he'd noticed. She was so adorable, but so beautiful too. Her hair was all fluffy and soft, and she was wearing a false smile—which left a bitter taste in his mouth to this moment—but she was enthralling. He'd locked his eyes on Rick and Michonne to keep from staring at her like a damn stalker, and he'd noticed the occasional touches. Neither one pulled away, just let their fingers linger, and it was almost sweet.

But when he'd tried it on Carol, it wasn't. He didn't do much, just reached out to grasp her fingers, and she'd been in a foul mood. She didn't want to be touch, not even lightly, and he should have picked up on that, but he was too nervous about trying. He wasn't good at this. He'd never had to do this before. Not once in his whole goddamn life had he had to figure out how to tell a woman he loved her. It wasn't even just that. Carol wasn't just a woman. She was his best friend. She was his family. She was part of him. She was like a lung or his torso, and he couldn't bare to destroy what they had, because it'd kill him. Just as it'd kill him to lose a lung and his torso. She was the first person to look at him and see more, to tell him he could be more, without wanting anything in return.

And to be honest he felt like he was asking her for something now. He knew it'd hurt when she told him she didn't feel the same. He knew it'd be like a damn cement wall on his chest, and he knew he wouldn't be able to be around her for a long time. He would miss a lot with the baby, but he'd make it up to the kid later. He just couldn't...prepare himself for any other answer than "I love you, but like a brother" or "You're my best friend, Daryl. I don't see you any other way. I'm sorry", and the other responses were cruel ones his mind had conjured up that he knew Carol wouldn't say to him. He couldn't bear to hear her say she was still in love with Tobin. He didn't know if she did or ever was, but he knew if she said those words, he wouldn't be able to recover. A stranger had earned her love while he fumbled blindly in the dark trying to figure out what the hell love was.

He had lost track of his point. He'd feel like if she did say yes, it'd be out of pity or out of obligation. They'd been friends for so long, and she knew him better than anybody. She might feel she had to do this, because she knew how much it'd hurt him. He didn't want that. He wanted her honestly, or he wanted her to make it clear that she didn't and wouldn't return his feelings so his mind wouldn't try and trick him with false hope. He'd had enough of that in his life, and he couldn't handle anymore. Love was torture, he'd learned, and he couldn't endure it for the rest of his life. He was going to be involved with her and with the baby, and he couldn't have the weight of false hope on his heart. It would strain their relationship, and it would cause a rift. One that might expand until she was a single mother, and he was just someone who used to be there but was now a distant memory to the kid.

That was another reason his tongue thickened. He couldn't bare for his feelings to be the reason Carol raised this child alone. When she told him she didn't feel the same, he worried she'd tell him she would handle this alone. Or she'd lean on Glenn and Maggie, or Michonne, or Rick. He didn't want to be in the background of her kid's life. Or her life. He wanted to still be friends, but he knew this would change everything. She might feel awkward around him or worry she was leading him on. He didn't want her to worry about that. Hell, even if she was, this area was so unfamiliar to him he probably wouldn't pick up on it. He didn't even know how to flirt, and Merle's idea of flirting was harassment. He wouldn't say anything Merle said to women to Carol. She'd probably punch him in the jaw if he did, and he'd let her. God knows how Merle didn't get a bloody lip for the shit he said. Well, more than he did anyway.

He shook water out of his hair and plopped down onto the couch, done with locking up the place, and he leaned back, closing his eyes and trying to get comfy. It wouldn't be easy, given his heart hadn't stopped racing since he saw Carol at home, and every nerve in his body was alive with trepidation and worse-case scenarios. He didn't know if he'd be able to sleep a wink, but he could hope. His mind was being especially brutal, and he knew there could be a chance she felt the same, but for the life of him he couldn't invest in that chance. It never worked out before, so why would this be any different?

His mind began to punish him with unwanted thoughts of what could happen if Carol did feel the same, and he dragged a hand through his hair, squeezing his already closed eyes tighter shut, and he groaned.

He would be able to kiss her. He would be able to hold her, and not just for a hug, not just for a moment. He could hold her through the night. He could stroked her hair and kiss her cheeks and be there beside her when she woke up in the morning. He could touch her and feel the baby against his palm without worrying if he was making her uneasy. He could be there for her and for the baby always.

There were other thoughts, other images, but he banished them. He didn't want to think of Carol like that. He was alone in an empty house, and there was no one around, but he didn't like how he felt when he thought about her like that in this type of situation. She meant enough to him that he couldn't go there. She was his friend first, and until he knew...how she felt, he'd keep that out of his mind. He'd try, anyway. It wasn't like he could control his damn dreams.

He hated the vivid ones he'd been having since he piece his feelings together. He could practically taste her skin and smell her hair. He could feel her on top of him, mounting him, and he couldn't keep his mind from going there while he was awake. Partly why he didn't stick around as much as he used to. He had terrible moments of deja vu, and his body would react at the thoughts, and he couldn't explain that to her without coming off as a complete creep. He didn't want Carol to think of him in that way. He didn't know exactly what way he wanted Carol to think of him in, but it wasn't as a creep. She'd had enough of those in her life, and he...hoped he wasn't one of them...

He wasn't like Ed. He'd never raise a hand to her. He'd sooner die than to lift his hand to intentionally cause her harm. He couldn't still the flames that roses up in his stomach at those fuckers who did try to hurt her, and he knew he couldn't do that to her. It wasn't in him to hurt her. That one time on the farm when he lunged at her, and she stood there, offering her cheek for him...was when he knew. His stomach dropped to his damn feet, his heart stopped beating, and he wanted to pitch himself off a cliff, because he'd stepped over the lines of victim toward abuser. He wouldn't be his old man, and he wouldn't hurt the people he loved. To see her do that, to know where she'd come from and what she'd just lost...yet she still offered herself as a punching bag for him, if that's what it took for him to be okay...was astonishing and horrifying. He didn't want to see her do that ever again. He'd rather the earth swallow him whole than to see her offer herself up like that for anybody.

And Tobin? He wasn't a damn thing like that man. He was blind to who Carol was, and it wasn't until the end that he knew he'd sat still while she blindfolded him to who she truly was. He had this perfect bubble of how things were and how he thought they should be, and Carol refused to let him pop it—though it came undo on its own. Daryl and Tobin weren't even on the same coin, so there was little to argue. Tobin was just a guy who was sheltered by the world and by Alexandria, and he would have been a good father had he not been so foolhardy and headstrong and passionate about securing the future of the town. He saved partly did that, but the cost wasn't worth it.

Daryl didn't want to remain on a dead men, so he lied down to wait the storm out, hands stacked on his stomach, and he inhaled the icy wet air. He hoped by this time tomorrow he was either heading back towards Alexandria or was already there. For Carol's sake, he hoped. Well, Carol's sake and the relief his heart yearned for. Good or bad, he had to know where he stood with Carol. As her best friend and family member only, or...perhaps more. He knew how short life was in this world, especially now, and he couldn't swallow this now that he knew what it was. He'd seen so many relationships in this world. Good ones like Maggie and Glenn, and doomed ones like Rick and Lori, and he didn't want to be like them. They didn't make any progress, and Lori died when there was still hostility and bitterness between them. There was a moment before the walkers filled the yard that Daryl saw that maybe Rick was about to patch it up, or talk to her, but...the world intervened as it always would. He wouldn't let him and Carol stand still and drift apart, so come what may, he would tell her in his own way the minute he was back in Alexandria that he was in love with her.

– – –

Carol sat on the porch, nestled in the blanket she'd taken off the back of the couch, and she searched the night sky. She wasn't looking for answers. She had no questions the stars or the sky could answer, and she heaved a sigh, wrapping herself even more in the blanket. It was too cold to be out there, but she couldn't sleep, and her bedroom felt this cold. There was no escaping that.

The front door opened, boots thudded over to her, and she looked beside her when Rick sat down, letting out a sigh himself and propping his elbows on his upraised knees. She couldn't see his expression, the porch light casting a shadow along it, so she didn't know if she was in for another lecture or perhaps some type of talk. She didn't care for either, but she was honestly happy to not be alone for once.

"It's a nice night." He rubbed his palms together. "A bit chilly, so I'm guessin' it's near late October."

"I guess so." She peered at him. "The leaves are changing."

"Bit by bit." He nodded. "You should have brought another blanket out here, one for me."

She smirked. "I'm not sharing, and you came out all on your own."

He chuckled. "That's true." He rubbed his warmed hands over his cool cheeks. "Why are you out here?"

"I couldn't sleep."

"Been hearin' that a lot lately." He rested his hands in his lap. "Anythin' you wanna talk about?"

"No. It's just nerves." She hugged the blanket tighter. "And a poor mattress."

"I'll try and see if there's anythin' we can use to pad your mattress with."

"Don't worry about it."

"I am worryin' about it." He locked his eyes in hers. "Carol, you're not sleepin' at all. I wake up in the dead of night 'cause I think I hear Judy, but it's not her. She's out cold. It's just you. I stayed up the majority of last night, tryin' to see if you were goin' to bed or not, but you never went down. You look awful, and...it's not healthy. Not for you, not for the baby."

"I can't help it. If I could, I would have done something by now."

"I know, but we have to try somethin'."

"There is no "we", Rick." She shook her head. "It's me who can't sleep, not you, not Michonne or Carl. It's just me." She blinked back the tears in her eyes. "It's just me."

He frowned. "Carol—"

"I should try and get some rest." She stood up. "Good night."

He turned towards her, hand on the cold wood, and he groaned a sigh when she vanished inside the house. That wasn't his plan at all. He knew there was something eating her, and it was coming out in her worn state. He wanted someone to be there when it did, and as Daryl had been gone for three fucking days, it would appear it'd have to be him. Or Michonne. Maggie and Glenn were...distracted, so unless Denise caught her at the right time, it'd have to be one of them.

He cut his gaze over to the gate, knowing a major reason why Carol couldn't sleep. Where the fuck are you, Dixon? he seethed.

– – –

Sasha playfully shoved Abraham away, reminding him that he and Eugene had another productive day of testing the first batch of bullets they'd been able to make, and she was about to kiss him goodbye when a loud rumbling came. She turned as Spencer opened the gate for Daryl, and she was relieved to see him in one piece. She was ready to lecture the shit out of him, but Abraham stopped her. They watched as he pulled his bike in, dismounted and took off like a shot towards the house.

"What the hell?" Sasha blinked. "Who lit a fire under his ass?"

Abraham smirked. You ever think about settling down? "Let him be."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "What do you know?"

He chuckled. "Something you don't for a change."

"If you're referring to Daryl being in love with Carol...then you're wrong there." She returned his smirk. "I have eyes, you know."

"Trust me, I know." He leaned down. "Eyes like a damn hawk."

"Exactly."

Spencer rolled his eyes at the banter and closed the gate, collecting the discarded bike and hauling it back to where it belonged. He found the front door wide open to Daryl's shared house with Rick and Michonne and their kids. He set the bike upright and padded up the stairs to close the door. He knew Abe and Sasha were right, so he'd at least give them some privacy should they be on the first floor.

––

Daryl caught his breath outside Carol's bedroom, though he knew she knew he was back—that, or someone just ran up the stairs for sport. His heart was pounding in his chest, and it wasn't from the run from the gate to here; it was in anticipation of the conversation to come. It was the stress and trepidation that had been with him since he climbed onto his bike to retrieve one single item. Well, it was a bundle of one thing, but that wasn't the point.

He straightened and knocked on the door, not wanting to rudely walk in without permission, and he inhaled deeply to try and release some of pressure, but it didn't work. In fact it may have added more. This moment was beyond massive. It would...change everything, and there was no point trying to belittle that. It was happening. As soon as she replied, it would happen, and everything would be different.

"Come in."

Daryl pushed the door open, Carol was in the chair by the bed, working on the baby blanket, and he smiled slightly at her, closing the door behind him, and he set the gift down on her nightstand.

She'd tensed at the sight of Daryl, but at the sight of what he'd brought with him...she damn nearly broke down into tears. She couldn't take her eyes off it, the white petals appeared to glow as the light hit them, the yellow of the center familiar, and her stomach knotted itself. She set the blanket down in the basket along with the other yarn and placed a hand to her stomach, her eyes locked on the wall in front of her.

"You...left...for that?" she ground out, tears burning in her eyes. "You were gone...for four nights...for those flowers?"

He shook his head. "There's...more to it than that."

She met his eyes and pleaded, "Take it and leave."

He frowned and tried to explain, but she wouldn't let him get the words out. He heard the struggle to remain steady in her voice, and he could see she was quaking. He drank in her pallor, how small she looked, and there was something vulnerable about her. She looked haggard, utterly ashen and fragile, and his heart broke. What happened while he was gone to make her look like this? To tremble and cry? And how long had it been with her?

"Please, I appreciate the sentiment, but I really don't want those flowers in my bedroom."

"What's wrong, Carol?" He approached her. "You're cryin'."

"Get rid of them," she weakly croaked. "Please."

"Is the baby okay?" He paled and tried to comfort her, but she wouldn't let him any closer. "What happened when I was out?"

She shook her head, pressing her fingertips into her temple, whimpering as tears cascading down her cheeks. She began to recall the last time she'd been given flowers and the events that follow, and she remembered the last time she'd been around flowers. She snapped under the burden of those memories. "I killed Lizzie..."


	22. The Flowers

Silence rang out in the house, the sounds of outside dimming down to nothing, and he could actually hear her swallow. It was more of a gulp than anything followed by a couple short panicked breaths and a shudder. He saw the shimmer in her eyes, the clenched fists at her side, and he knew she had actually done it. She had killed Lizzie. The girl was about eleven years old, and Carol had...killed her.

She wasn't sorry instantly played in his mind, and he wanted to punch those words out of his head for even thinking now was an appropriate time to pop back up. He knew she had to have a good reason. She wasn't a cold-blooded murderer. She was a good woman, and he knew that. He wouldn't jump to any conclusions, because there was a side to this that he didn't know, one that she was struggling to come to terms with, and that meant whatever happened between the two was gruesome. He wasn't sure he was ready to hear this, but he had to. He had to know, and he had to...do whatever he could to get that sorrow and anguish out of her eyes.

Carol dropped her gaze to the floor and squeezed her eyes shut, praying that this was all just a bad dream. She couldn't have said those words. She couldn't have started that conversation. She wasn't ready to talk about it. She just wanted to forget. The last thing she wanted was to drudge it all up and force Daryl to know every gory detail of what happened to Mika, of what nearly happened to Judith, and of what she had to do to Lizzie. She could scarcely wipe the memories from her mind, so how in hell could she rehash it to Daryl and expect him...them...to still be the same? Nothing about what happened there will ever be okay, not Lizzie's actions, not Carol's. She did what she had to do to protect Judith and Tyreese and herself, but the cost was so high. It weighed on her heart, body and soul.

Daryl stepped closer to her, and she didn't make any moves whatsoever. He parted his lips to speak, but no words would slither out. He didn't know where to begin to have this conversation. He didn't know where to begin to sooth her. He was already terrible with both, but this was a new area he was vastly unfamiliar with. He had no words, and no show of affection was going to make this or her better. He needed his words—any words—to try and fill in the blanks prior to her killing Lizzie, but damn was his tongue tied. His heart was pounding in his ears, and his mouth felt full of cotton. Where did he go from here? Where did this conversation go from here?

Carol crumbled like a leaf back into the seat she'd once been in, covering half of her face with her palm, shaking as tears poured out of her eyes. She inhaled a trembling breath and released it, her small body shuddering once more, and she shook her head. She couldn't believe she'd finally slipped up, that the horror and burden of what occurred at the grove had finally caught up to her and wriggle its way into her mouth and off her tongue. She had meant to keep it locked down inside forever. It did nothing to help her move on from those events, but she had no choice. She had to force herself to move on. Otherwise the memories would consume her, as they had desperately and persistently had been trying these last couple of months. Tyreese had taken this secret to the grave, and she had hoped she would too, but apparently not.

She knew Daryl wouldn't and couldn't leave this be. He had to know more, had to know she was all right, had to know why and how and all of the bloody details she didn't want to part with. This wasn't the type of conversation you just had and walked away from clean. It was razor blades and searing burns. It would leave marks and scars, and there would be no forgetting it. It was like a brand, and the tissue just wouldn't allow any ointment or treatment to force it to be gone. No amount of discussion on this topic would ever make it less painful, would ever take away this hole in her chest, would ever make her feel okay about what she did. She failed to protect Mika, and she failed to stop Lizzie. She was with those girls every day for months at the prison, and she didn't see it. She didn't see the darkness and the confusion brimming in those curious blue eyes during their lessons and meals. She didn't see the twisted thoughts floating just behind the surface. She didn't put much thought into Lizzie's mindset and why she thought the way she did. Instead she thought she'd done a good job straightening her out. Instead she left a toddler and a ten year old alone with a dangerous and armed child. A child she had give both the means and method on how to gut her little sister.

There were a million other things she could have done to try and make this better. She could have stayed behind that day, kept an eye on Lizzie to ensure they were on the same page. She could have had a talk with Mika to see if she thought Lizzie understood it now. She knew Mika saw how perverse Lizzie was. She'd said so that day in the yard. She's not stupid. She's just messed up. She should have pushed that, not just written it off as sibling fighting. The signs were all there—hell, looking back on it now they were practically screaming at her—but she didn't see them. She didn't see a single one of those screaming neon signs, and Mika paid the price for that. Judith nearly paid that same price. Two innocent girls... All because Carol hadn't seen it, and that was on her. Mika's death was on her. She told Ryan she'd protect those girl like they were her own, but all she did in the end was lead them to the slaughter.

Nearly every damn day for the first six months of the prison being open to strangers Carol was with those girls. Every damn day Carol read to those children—read to Lizzie and Mika—and taught them how to stab and slash, showed them what Rick and Daryl had taught her, showed them how to be safe. And little did she know she was teaching them how to kill each other. She saw them as Sophia, sweet and innocent and unprepared for what this world was truly like. She didn't see them as who they were, and that blinded her to what Lizzie truly was. She thought if she fought hard enough, if she pressed the lesson hard enough it would sink it, and Lizzie would be okay. She'd pick herself up and survive. She'd become a productive member of the group one day...however all she did was use the lessons Carol had taught her on her baby sister. Her sweet little sister who had to know Lizzie was up to something but wasn't quite sure what. Mika died a slow, agonizing death, and they didn't hear a single scream. They didn't hear her calling out for them. And she must have. She must have cried and screamed and struggled, but Mika was small. She wasn't strong enough to physically fend Lizzie off, and that was the end of her life.

Her tears were endless at the thought of that poor little girl struggling to escape her sister's hold and gurgling up her own blood, of how much it burned when the blade went in and was ripped back—all things Carol had taught them. She might as well have been holding the goddamn knife as Lizzie sliced her open. For fuck's sake, she provided the means, the method and the opportunity. She was just as guilty as Lizzie for Mika's death. Just as guilty.

Daryl watched tear after tear streak down her cheeks and stain her shirt, and his already broken heart began to crumble even more. "I'm sure you had a good reason," he finally spoke, filling the room with noise other than Carol's sobs.

She shook her head, not denying or objecting to that statement, simply unable to verbalize a response.

"I know you wouldn't have done it without a good reason," he pressed. "I know."

"How?" she spat. "How could you possibly know? You weren't there, Daryl. You weren't."

"I know 'cause I know you wouldn't harm a kid without a damn good reason," he snapped back. "I ain't gonna stand here and listen to you say otherwise 'cause it ain't true."

She dropped her hand from her face and stood up. "You don't know me as well as you think."

"And you don't know how well I know you."

She scoffed and stepped back from him. "I killed her, Daryl. Me. I lured her out of the house and into a field, I pulled my gun when her back was turned, and I killed her. An eleven year old. A child." She folded her arms over her chest, her lips quivering. "I might as well have killed her sister too."

"What happened?" He searched her eyes. "What did she do?"

She shook her head and tripped backwards, the tears blurring her vision, and she couldn't. She couldn't. She couldn't. She couldn't say those words. She couldn't speak aloud what had happened on that land. They had been poor guardians to those girls, and...

Daryl frowned when she refused to speak, when her eyes slammed shut and tears continued to stream down her cheeks. He couldn't stand to see her like this, and he couldn't stand the distance she was putting between them. Like it or not, they were in this together. They were going to raise her son or daughter together, and he wasn't going to let what happened in the past influence her in the future. He knew it was weighing heavily on her now, and he couldn't save her from it, but he could help her. He could try to help her. He wanted to, so he had to try with the only option he had left.

He closed the space between them, tentatively reaching out and placing a hand on the back of her neck—very softly, very affectionately as to not send her running off, alarmed. The other rested on her elbow, holding her in place against him, and he didn't move any closer. He didn't pull her into his arms. He didn't nudge her to move anywhere. He just remained as close as he could with space still between them, his eyes closed, and he waited. It was her move—to pull away, or to talk about it with him now and possibly be able to move on one day. He wasn't sure she would be able to, but baby steps. At the end of their journey, baby steps...become long strides and long strides map out the healing process. They weren't always straight and easy lines to follow, but no path worth a damn really was.

She hadn't opened her eyes when he neared, nor when he touched her. She hadn't flinched or jolted, and he hardly hesitated. She'd noticed this more and more since she'd made her way back to the group. He had always been slightly more affectionate with her than with anybody else. He'd held her hand briefly when she helped him stand up after he lost Merle. He'd embraced in her a way she'd never been embraced before, in a way she'd never even dreamed of being embraced before. He'd hugged her again after he and the group found her and Maggie. There were other times, but she was injured, and so was he. They had no one else to lean on...

She realized then just how true that statement was, hand now around her mouth, the other on her belly, and she sealed his offered embrace. She sobbed into her palm, her face on his chest, and she let it out. There was no where else for it to go after all.

"I saw the fire from where I was staying, and I drove back to see what had happened. The prison was in shambles, some of it aflame, and I was only able to catch Tyreese and the girls. The girls were in the woods, Tyreese on the tracks, and we heard from a dying man about Terminus, so we headed in that direction." She felt his hand flex on her elbow at the mention of the place and the thought of its people who nearly brought him, Rick and Glenn their end.

"We didn't make it. Mika and I found a pecan grove while looking for water. It had a gate, food, a stable house, and Tyreese wasn't ready to be around people just yet after what happened with Karen and David, so...we decided to stay there.

"It seemed great. We had food for Judith, peaches and pecans for us, a gas stove and clothes and water. We had a place to start over...but the next morning I found Lizzie playing with a walker. This girl in rags, and I killed it. She went off on me, screaming about how I killed her friend, how I would like it if she killed me, that the walker didn't want to hurt anybody..."

It's the same thing! You killed her! You killed her! It's the same thing! What if I killed you? What if I killed you?! You don't understand, you don't understand, you don't understand. You don't understand! You didn't have to. You didn't have to. She didn't wanna hurt anybody. She was my friend, and you killed her.

"The next day...burned walkers came out of the woods, Lizzie and Mika helped me and Tyreese fight them off. I thought...she understood. I talked to her that night. She seemed to...comprehend that walkers were dangerous, weren't pets or friends, but...I was so wrong."

Daryl's heart broke at the quiver in her words, and he rubbed her shoulder blade, slipping his other arm around her waist. He didn't want to speak for fear of cutting her off and not discovering what followed the burned walkers, so he held her tightly, minding the area around the hand against his lower stomach.

"Tyreese and I went to get water...and when we got back..." Her words were airy and unsure as they glided out of her lips, and her hand trembled, her fingers parted so her words wouldn't be distorted, and she opened her eyes, the darkness of them being shut invoking the memories to replay on a loop. They still were, but it was easier to manage if...she simply kept her eyes open. She swallowed hard and continued when the roaring silence revealed the image of little Mika covered in blood and lying there still on the grass.

"Lizzie was standing by the house...and her knife and hands were covered in blood, smiling at us as we neared with Judith laid out on a blanket on the ground..." Her voice deepened with emotions, her eyes hollowing out. "Mika was behind her on the ground too, her shirt stained with her own blood from the gaping slash in her torso...but her brain untouched."

Don't worry. She'll come back. I didn't hurt her brain.

"She wanted to show us what she saw in walkers by killing Mika and leaving her to turn, and she was going to do the same thing to Judith. If we had been even a minute late to return..." She pressed her lips together and bit back a whimper. "I had to do it. She'd been feeding mice to the walkers at the prison, even killed and gutted a rabbit in the prison...said it was fun. She was just playing. I had to do it to protect us and to protect Judith."

Daryl's heart dropped, and he couldn't process those words. How could anybody process this type of news? Mika was killed and left to turn by her older sister. He'd seen Mika and Lizzie a lot at the prison, always hovering around the gate and by Carol and their dad. He'd watch Carol with them sometimes when she would team up with Hershel to teach about plants and crops, and he knew Carol had taken a shine to them especially. Mika adored Carol, always wanted to be by her side, and it was just adorable. She was...a lot like Sophia. What little he knew of Sophia...shined in Mika. Had Ed not been in the picture, Mika and Sophia would have been like the same person. He knew that was partly why she'd agreed to take them in as her own. That, and her motherly heart. So for it to end...that way...

"I lead her to the field just outside the house," Carol mumbled, resting her head against his chest, "and she thought I was upset that she pulled her gun on me. She didn't want me to touch Mika, to...stop her from turning, so she used her gun to try and stop me. She didn't even consider killing her sister to have been wrong, to have been bad, and that's what cemented mine and Tyreese's decision. I told her I loved her while she cried about me being mad at her and how sorry she was, and...I pulled the trigger..."

He felt her flinch in his arms, as though she were reliving it and had just heard the gunshot ring out, and he swallowed with difficulty.

She snuffled. "I should have seen it. I spent so much time with her and with Mika, and it was evident. It was so plain, and I didn't see it. I only provided her with the weapon and skill to kill her little sister to prove a point."

"No."

"Yes. She wouldn't have known half of what she knew had I not taught her, and she wouldn't have done as much damage had I not armed her."

"You had to arm her." He pulled back to look at her face. "Carol, it's the world we live in. If you hadn't given her a knife, she would have died."

"She still died," Carol informed him bitterly.

He searched her eyes. "Yeah, but it could've been worse."

"Like how Mika died? Cut from clavicle to navel?" She returned his searching look. "I might as well have killed her too. With how little I—"

"No," he interjected. "You didn't kill her. It wasn't your fault. You didn't touch her."

"I didn't protect her. I didn't see what she told me at the prison until it was too late. She was just a child, and she understood Lizzie's mental instability in her own way. I'm an adult. I should have seen it. I should have done something. I told Ryan I'd look after them like they were my own, so I suppose that was my first mistake." She gave a mirthless laugh. "I couldn't protect my own daughter, so why in hell did I think I could protect his?"

"You did everythin' you could."

"Did I?" She pulled away from him. "Because if I did...wouldn't at least one of them still be here?! Wouldn't Mika be downstairs playing with Judith? Or going to class?! Or helping me cook in the kitchen?! If I had done everything I could have...wouldn't she be here right now?"

He lowered his gaze without a word.

"I failed to do one of the most important jobs I've ever had repeatedly." Her hand found the lump on her stomach. "And I can't handle that happening again. I really can't. Every single night I remember what happened to the girls, my girls, every single night I relive my failures, and I can't... I can't. I can't. I can't..."

He lifted his head as she fell apart again, and he stepped towards her. "It wasn't your fault, all right? I know you ain't gonna believe me that easy. I know it just sounds like lies, like I'm tryin' to make you feel better, but it's the truth." He shuffled his feet. "Just like what happened to Beth ain't on me. I...it ain't on Maggie, and it ain't on Noah. It's on Dawn, and she's dead.

"People make their own choices, and we can't stop 'em. It's free will. It's what makes us people and not puppets. You can't help what someone else does, even if you could have helped them...in the end it's their decision and their actions. You were only an influence...one they ignored." He sighed softly. "I wish things had ended differently...a million times over. Like with my brother. Like with Hershel and Phillip. Like with Sophia—I really wanted to bring her home to you. I thought...I could, but...then she was stumblin' outta the barn, and it was all I could do to stop you from runnin' up and gettin' bit 'cause...I couldn't have lost you too."

"D—"

"It isn't your fault," he tenderly interrupted her. "Lizzie wasn't stable, and she made the decision to kill her sister to try and prove that walkers were more than just stumblin', hungry corpses. I know it ain't easy to hear, but it's the truth. You couldn't have stopped her, because sooner or later she would have made that choice, and...later it might have cost you more."

"More than an innocent child's life?"

"Maybe."

"I doubt that."

"She might have gone after you and Ty and Ass Kicker and Mika in the night. You could all be dead right now." He was yelling. "That's worse than just one life, and I ain't tryin' say Mika's life didn't mean much, but...at least it was just one. It doesn't make it fair or right. It's shit, okay? It shouldn't have happened, but it did. It did, and at least it wasn't all of y'all."

"It might as well have been. Mika's dead. Lizzie's dead. Tyreese is dead." She listed. "All that's left is me and Judith."

"And that's everythin' to me."

She peered him, brows knitted together, and she frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talkin' about what you mean to me, and it's a lot. I know what happened with the girls was horrifyin', and I can't fully grasp just how much because I wasn't there. I don't have all the details, but I do know that you did your best. You always do. I know it's not gonna be easy comin' back from this—it never is—but I'm here for you. You don't have to carry this alone anymore."

"It's not carrying it that's the problem, and you carrying it with me won't help me."

"Well, will running away help?" he demanded. "You've tried twice, and it worked the second time. Did it help?"

She tensed. "Who—?"

"Tobin."

"Of course." She crossed her arms. "So you know that day by the gate...was me coming back?"

He nodded. "You didn't even tell me you were goin'."

"The point of leaving is to leave. You wouldn't have let me. That's why I left a note with Tobin. I couldn't risk you finding out and coming after me. I needed to be alone, and I still do. There's more to this than you know, than you can understand—"

"Understand?" He scoffed. "I understand just fine."

"No, you don't. We're different people. You can say we're not, but we are. You don't know what it's like to live a day in my head, like I don't know what it's like to live a day in yours. You didn't pull the trigger. You weren't there."

"I can still understand what you went through. I've had to do it too."

"Dale doesn't compare to a little girl who just gutted her sister."

He shook his head. "You just don't want to let anybody in. You can't pretend forever."

"I'm not pretending, Daryl! I'm exhausted! I'm worried all the time, because I can't do what I need to do to live here with all of you! I can't do it anymore. I love you all, but I need to get away from you."

"Why? Why do you need to?"

"Because I can't kill anymore!" she erupted. "I can't kill to protect you, and if I can't kill, it'll just come to ruin us. Like Andrew and Phillip. I can't pretend it's all okay, because it's not. I have so much blood on my hands...and I can't anymore. It's too much. I had to leave to protect you all. I'll only get someone killed."

"You're not worthless if you can't kill."

"But I'm a risk if I can't." She studied his eyes. "There will always be something else, Daryl. A new threat, a new asshole who wants what we have, and we'll have to fight. We'll lose people, people we love and who will leave a scar on us. But they'll lose people too. We'll kill them for killing ours and for trying to take what's ours, and I can't be apart of that. I can't just expect to sit on the sidelines either. If anything were to happen to you...any of you...because I couldn't be there...because I couldn't kill for you...I wouldn't be able to live with myself."

"It wouldn't be on you."

"It might be, and I can't afford for that to happen. That's why I left." She averted her gaze and released a breath. "That's why I still need to get away from you all."

He scrutinized her. "Well, it ain't like you're fit to protect anythin' right now." She shook her head and opened her mouth, but he wouldn't let her speak. "You're pregnant, and we aren't gonna let you go out there to do anythin'. I don't know how much space you need, but...we can give it to you."

"I've already tried to work through this—"

"Yeah, by yourself." He stepped toward her. "I know you don't wanna kill, and you won't have to. We'll handle anythin' that happens, and you're not gonna be alone to have to worry about killin'. I'll be here. For you, for the baby—I'm here. I know you want to be completely alone, but...if you can't kill, you're vulnerable, and I don't want that, so I'm gonna be there as quietly as I can be. You'll get through this, and if you still can't kill, I'll be there to ensure you don't have to."

"Daryl, I can't ask you to do that. You'll waste your life to protect mine, and I don't want that either."

"It won't be a waste."

She shivered as he closed the space between them, his hands coming to rest on her upper arms, and she tearfully gazed up at him, drinking in those baby blue eyes and the affection hovering there. Her shoulders trembled under his touch, and she couldn't stop the tears that slid down her cheeks. She was so tired of arguing, so tired of running, and she could stop. She could finally stop, but it was just temporary. In a month or two or a year, this issue would come back, and they'd be back at square one. She knew that. Once the baby was born...she would have to discover if she could kill for the sake of her community and her child, or be the cause of their deaths.

"You don't have to," he softly reminded her. "You don't."

She snuffled and swallowed hard.

"I'm gonna be here...whatever comes, and it's my choice. I won't regret it, and it ain't a waste." He smiled tenderly at her. "I'll keep you both safe."

She broke down once more, wrapping her arms around him tightly, and she buried her face in his chest. He held her close, rubbing her back and holding her up. He meant what he said, and he would tell her how he felt when the time was right. It wasn't at the moment, and right now he was more concerned with her well-being. He'd take care of her then he'd tell her. Or show her. He always was better with showing than telling, he thought as he held Carol in his arms.


	23. (Don't) Let This Feeling Fade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapters 24 and 25 are flashback chapters, and 25 will end in the current time.

Daryl held an exhausted and silent Carol in his arms that night, the moonlight pouring in from the open drapes, and he stared at the ceiling without saying a word. He had his arm around her back, the other gripping her forearm that rested over his chest, his thumb gently stroking the soft skin the sleeve of her cardigan revealed; and he exhaled slowly, feeling her hairs brush against his chin when she shifted ever so slightly.

After she had stopped crying, he sat her down and retrieved her a glass of water. She didn't want to talk anymore, and she didn't want to be alone. Somehow they wound up like this, nestled up in her bed, warming and keep the other company. It would have been nice if she didn't shiver now and then, if she spoke to him at all, if she didn't snuffle and remind him of the heartbreak inside of her he couldn't fix. He wasn't sure anybody could fix it, but he knew he would try. He would try and try until it worked, or until he found someone or some way to aid her.

However he didn't know if it was mourning, regret, or being trapped in that terrible moment and being unable to escape it. Or a gnarled dark mess of all of three. He wasn't the person to help knock out those knots or begin the healing process. Carol always had his back. Always saw right through him and knew what to say, what to do, but he had no clue where to start. This was an unfamiliar path, and they would have to walk it together. He wouldn't let her stumble down it alone anymore, no matter how much she insisted she had to. It wasn't forcing her to be with him; it was him forcing himself and her to look over every shit detail of those days, of each kill and remembering why. Whys weren't kind or good to them, but they were important.

And when they arrived at the point where she absolutely needed to be by herself, he'd let go. He'd step back and let her find her way out of the woods. In the end, no matter how he pushed and supported and was there for her, she was alone on this path. And she alone would have to find her way out of it, but he'd do his damnedest to ensure that part of her path was the shortest. He couldn't make it any less difficult, but he would try to make it one step. It would be one hell of a step to take, but he'd be there before and after she took it, and if she let him, he'd be there while she took it. He'd sell his soul to whatever gods were out there to ensure Carol came off this path...better.

Not a better person, not a better killer, not a better anything other than better mentally. Better was all he could of, because these wounds were the hardest to heal, and it would take time. It would be brutal. It would be pounding fists and breakdowns. It would be tears at the slightest thing. It would be stressing over the baby. It would be a million things, and he would be there to help fight them off, if she wanted him there, if she let him fight alongside her. If not, he'd fight alongside her in the sidelines. He would cheer her on with looks and slight nods. He'd let her know while the path was dark and familiar and easy to lose yourself on, it was just a path. Sooner or later...she'd find herself stepping over old footsteps and find old tear stains, and it might still be as tough as before, but she made it out once before—and she could do it again and this time...could every well be the last time.

He reached his hand up to caress the back of her head, her fingers tightening on his chest at the movement, and he held her for a moment longer before she began to shift against him. I was right, he thought to himself as she pulled away, sitting at the end of the bed. He sat up and studied her as she stared with hollow eyes out the window, and he pulled his legs in.

Everything had changed.

– – –

Glenn smiled as Maggie lined up their hands, fingers closed and evenly aligned, and she moved them apart, his willing following in hers. She slowly slid her fingers through his, gently and affectionately squeezing his hand with her fingers. He chuckled at her, her beautiful eyes falling on his face, and she chuckled with him, leaning up to kiss him tenderly.

It had been intense. They'd been together many times before, in places they probably shouldn't have, but it had never been like this. He couldn't place what exactly had changed, but it wasn't a negative thing. He'd never felt closer to Maggie before. He'd never loved her this much—and he loved her more and more each day. It'd never...felt like this before, and he couldn't place what was so different. Nothing really was...

But that wasn't true, was it? They were different. They had been through hell and back in a cruel test. They had lost something precious with each other, and it wasn't something they would ever truly overcome. It would hurt less in time, perhaps, but it would stay with them like a scar, and it would fade only slightly in the coming years. It would always be there, a silvery pink little line across their hearts, and they wouldn't forget that awful day only months ago.

Glenn hoped it wouldn't haunt them as it had that very first day. He knew he could only wait and find out, but he had no experience with the loss of a child. He'd lost plenty of his family, his best friends even, but never his own child. He'd seen Carol go through it. He'd seen her struggle, stood beside her while she changed from a soft voice to a warrior. She came out better for it, but honestly there was really no better after losing your child. There was only an after.

Maggie studied those big brown eyes and knew what thoughts were brimming there, and she squeezed his hand once more, not speaking, simply comforting. She knew he'd come out and say it, but for now she wanted him to know he had her support with whatever it was. Though she suspected she knew. It had come up briefly before, and it was back now. It would always be back, and one day it wouldn't be a terrible, dreadful thing. It would just be. Or so she hoped.

He reached out and ran his fingers through her short hairs, earning a small smile from her, and he kissed her lightly, hearing her chuckle curiously. He traced his fingertips along her jaw once they'd slipped out of her hair, and he smiled back at her ardently.

She sat up, hands on either side of him on the bed, and she kept his gaze. "I love you too." She gently kissed his forehead.

"But I didn't say anything," he reminded her.

"You didn't need to." She smirked at him. "But I am wonderin' what you're not sayin'. You've been quiet. I can tell you're thinkin' about...somethin'."

"It's only been two months since we lost the baby," he whispered this fact, and she tensed somewhat. "Carol was a month along when we went to Hilltop, and now she's a bit over three months...so it's been two months."

She nodded. "Yeah..."

"You would have been...four months now? Or five?" He exhaled slowly. "It's...strange to imagine." He traced the hard line of her stomach, feeling a shudder course through her, and he looked back up at her, replaying what he'd just said and what he'd just done in his mind. "I—I'm sorry. I didn't—"

"It's okay." She smiled half-heartedly. "I was thinkin' about it earlier with Enid..."

"We would know if it would have been a girl or boy by now."

"I'd say a boy." She smiled more genuinely. "And I'm bettin' the next one will be a girl, because nobody would want you to miss out on the chance to raise a little girl. Even in this world."

He chuckled once and rubbed his index finger over her knee. "The next one, huh?"

She nodded. "I'm not ready for that step again, but...I'm not gonna pretend it won't happen again. I want to get pregnant again, and I want to do everything I can to keep the baby safe. It'll be scary, but I won't hide from it. I won't deny us...something we both want." She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and rested her forehead on his. "We'll get there one day."

He kissed the tip of her nose and held her. "We will." He reached up and cradled her head, closing his eyes and the smile he'd previously given returned as he held his wife close, feeling her breathing in time with him, feeling her warmth and her love. There was no other place he'd rather be.

– – –

"Soon she'll be walking," Michonne commented when Rick leaned over to help Judith out of her crib.

"If she's anythin' like her brother, we'll be more worried when she learns how to talk." He smirked and held his daughter and her stuffed elephant close.

She chuckled. "I'll let you take her downstairs. I'll check on Carol, maybe try to find Daryl afterward. We need some meat for tonight. The baby won't get healthy without protein, and we don't have enough beans for them to do any real good."

He nodded. "I have to check on Eugene and the factory. He has a new batch for us to try. This batch will be used for the hospital run."

"Let me know how it goes."

"I will." He met her eyes. "I'm not sendin' y'all out there with faulty bullets, and Eugene wouldn't be able to live with himself if he did make a mistake like that."

"We'll be fine, with or without bullets." She placed a kiss on Judith's forehead then smirked at her boyfriend. "I have a pregnant woman to rouse. Wish me luck."

"Trust me, it isn't luck you're gonna need."

She stepped back and headed down the hall to Carol's bedroom. She hadn't seen Carol in a while, and she hoped she was all right. She had put some space between them to let Daryl do his thing, but it had been oddly quiet. She hadn't seen Daryl sulking or being a distant ass from rejection, so that meant Carol either returned his feelings, or...something else happened between the two. She wasn't sure what it could have been, but it couldn't have been so terrible. He wasn't stomping around town, and she wasn't avoiding him, to Michonne's knowledge. Though given how much Carol meant to him, that reaction might not...cover the heartbreak a rejection would bring.

She sighed outside Carol's room and reached out to knock, not wanting to go there. It was their business, and if Daryl wanted someone to talk to about how it went—good or bad—they were there. Until then she shouldn't assume it went poorly or well. She would be there if he or Carol wanted or needed someone to talk to, or vent at, and they knew that.

She waited a moment, hearing scrambling on the other side of the door, and she frowned, wondering who that could have been. It certainly wasn't Carol making all that noise. She was too little to make that much noise with just walking. She knew Carl wasn't big enough either, and he was downstairs. So who was in her room with her this early in the morning?

She had her answer when the door opened and Daryl stood on the other side, an utter mess of a man. His hair was more unruly, his shirt and pants wrinkled beyond all hope, and he looked like absolute shit. From how the bags under his eyes sagged, he didn't sleep a wink last night, and from how his eyes were closed to slits at the sight of her, he wasn't happy about being woken up. Or at least having to get out of bed, anyway.

She blinked, stunned, and she broke out into a smile. "Am I interrupting something?"

"What?" His voice was hoarse, rough as glass from the lack of water he'd had, and he cleared his throat to try and remedy that, but he caught onto what Michonne just said. His cheeks burned, and he shook his head. "No, no."

She smirked nonetheless. "You don't have to tell me anything."

"No, really, Michonne—"

"It's okay," she gently interrupted him. "I don't want any details, but I'm proud of you. You took a big step, telling Carol you love her, and I'm happy for you. Whatever the results, I'm with you. If you need to talk or need any help, just come find me." She smiled compassionately. "I'll leave you two alone, but make sure she has breakfast. We all kinda want the baby to come out all cute and chubby."

Daryl didn't bother to correct her as his mind produced the image of the baby all chubby-cheeked and giggling at him with the beautiful eyes of its mother. He wondered if he'd have her curls, and if so, if they'd be the same color as Sophia's hair or if it'd be the same color as Tobin's. His mind settled on a mixed image, and the baby was still damn precious. He felt warmth blossom in his chest at the image, and he couldn't hide the smile that reflected on his lips.

Michonne patted his shoulder. "Take a shower and meet me at Denise's in an hour. We have that run coming up soon, and we have a couple new volunteers we need to sort through."

He nodded. "I'll be there."

"Good."

He watched Michonne walk away then turned back to where Carol was coiled up on the bed, having passed out a good hour ago. He'd stayed up with her, being physically close to her and simply being there for her when she needed space. He wasn't sure how she was handling all of this, but he knew she'd do better without him crowding her for now. She needed to rest, and he'd make her something to eat when she woke up. He had a meeting to get to, and she didn't need to be involved with the details of the hospital run. It wasn't simple or in-and-out, but at this point it was mandatory. He was ready to do whatever it took to salvage those supplies and come back here with everyone. It was childish to think he could save them all when the shit hit the fan, but he would try. He wouldn't let what happened on the last run repeat itself.

His eyes drifted down toward Carol's belly which was covered somewhat by blankets. He was going to be...a father, not by blood, but who gives a shit? His blood father was a worthless, abusive piece of human waste. He wasn't worthy of the title of father, but at the end of the day Daryl wouldn't have existed without that asshole, so he was his father. To say he was a poor father was an understatement. He was barely even a human being, doing what he did to him and to Merle, and Daryl hadn't let go of his rage toward the asshole, even though he was long gone. Daryl had clawed his way out from behind his old man's shadow, out from behind Merle's, and he wasn't going back. Blood didn't define crap.

Like Ed. That piece of fucking scum who was worse than his father. Sure, Will beat the shit out of him and Merle, but he never once went any further with it, not like Ed. Ed beat Carol, right in front of the women when they were doing laundry, and he had no shame until Shane beat his face in. And even then had he survived the attack, he would have gone back to his old ways. He would gotten Sophia alone and done terrible things to her—things that made the rage Daryl felt for his own father intensify until he feared those flames would consume him entirely. Ed had no soul, and Daryl was glad he was dead. He had no remorse for that man, and had he been as close to Carol then as he was now, he would have killed Ed. Without a season thought, without batting an eyelid, without regretting it. What he did to her, the bruises everyone saw but said nothing about until that day, the way Sophia was all too eager to run off with the other kids and the reluctance in her return to their tent... He earned that death. Hell maybe even worse than that.

He averted his eyes, remembering the ones they'd lost, all the good and selfless ones who deserved better. He thought of Beth and her words at the shack, about how she thought Hershel would die surrounded by loved ones. A quiet, okay death. Hershel, T, Tyreese, Bob, Lori, Andrea, Noah... His hands balled to fists and weakly unfurled. They deserved a quiet, okay death, but what they got...

A loud sound halted his train of thought and his anger, and he looked up to find Carl on the steps, picking up a fallen toy of Judith's. He smiled slightly at that and called to him.

"I don't have class today, or the wall or patrol, so I thought I'd hang out with Judy," he explained. "Maybe teach her to walk. She stands just fine. It's just...moving forward that's the problem, and Enid's at Maggie and Glenn's studying, and I can't pronounce half the words without her teasing me."

Daryl nodded. "Just keep it down some. Carol's sleepin'."

"Oh? That's great." He beamed.

"What'd you mean?" He studied the kid. "Has—has she not been sleepin'?"

"No." He shook his head. "She's been pacing a lot the last couple of nights, looking like...the dead, really. Nothing we tried worked. You know, like warm milk with honey, or fruit. Enid said bananas help or something like that. I dunno, but it didn't work. She was still up most of the night. We were all so worried, but she's asleep now?"

"Yeah. She's been asleep for an hour now."

"Good. That's awesome." He ran a hand through his hair, relief spewing from his body. "That's one less thing to worry about."

"Yeah."

"I heard Michonne mention the hospital run." He met Daryl's eyes. "I know I can't go, so don't start that lecture. I've heard it from my dad about a million times. I just want you to know I'll take care of Carol, so just go on to the meeting. I mean, she and Judy are on the same feeding schedule anyway." He shrugged nonchalantly. "It's no trouble."

"I can do it."

"I know, but I'll be here, and this run is important. You have a lot of...adjustments to make, and you shouldn't have to worry about Carol on top of that. I'll make sure she eats."

He nodded slowly, realizing Carl was right. He could come back and tend to Carol, but that would leave their meeting on pause for however long he was gone. They were going soon, and it was his run. He couldn't ditch out to tend to Carol, no matter how badly he wanted to. He had help, and Carol had people to keep her on track. He didn't have to stress about her alone, because a lot of people loved Carol, and there were ones who loved Tobin and wanted to see his child survive, so they were taking care of Carol too. It wasn't his job alone.

"All right, but if you need me, you know where to find me," Daryl finally spoke. "And if she doesn't eat, lemme know. Don't crowd her."

He nodded. "I got it."

"Thanks, Carl."

"Don't mention it." He smiled once more and stayed at the top of the stairs as Daryl descended to shower and change in his own room. Carl's smile dissolved instantly when Daryl fell out of sight, his eyes moving to Carol as she slept in her bed, and his heart ached. He swallowed around the lump in his throat and balanced the toys in his arms to one side, reaching out to close the bedroom door.

He had his reasons for wanting to be there for Carol now, and he wouldn't share them with anybody. It was selfish of him, he knew, but he wanted to make up for how he acted and treated his mom when she was pregnant with Judith. He was cruel to her, yelling at her and storming off without approval or permission. He couldn't turn back the clock and redo everything. If he could, he would have been kinder. He would have listened to what she was saying to him, remembered her voice and her laugh. He didn't know if killing Andrew would save her or not, given that she had to have a C-section regardless, but he'd have tried. For Judith to have a chance to know their mom, to see her smile and hear her stories...to taste her awful pancakes...to be held by her even once.

He thought about his last embrace with his mom as she lied there on the cold, dirty prison floor all the time. He missed her so much, and he regretted their last few months together. He had so many of them, and he didn't want to make the same mistakes twice. He knew Carol wasn't his mom. He didn't even think of her as his mom, but...if there was a Heaven, if there was a thereafter where his mom was...he hoped she saw him doing all the kind and good things she raised him to do, that she wanted him to do for the people he loved. Carol had been there for his mom throughout her entire pregnancy, and he wanted to return the favor. She was his family, and she'd saved his life countless times, and not just his. He knew she didn't want him to repay anything, but he wanted to. There was no real score in his mind, but still, he'd be there. For a chance to see this new baby be held by their mother, he would be there for her.

You're so good. My sweet boy. You're the best thing I ever did. I love you. He released a soft sigh and gazed at Carol, part of him hoping Carol wouldn't have to say any last words to any of them before her child came into the world. The other part knew it was fruitless. They could and would fight to the very end, but when it was the end, it was the end. Nothing more to do than pull the trigger, or insert a blade.

Banishing those thoughts from his head, he silently pulled the door closed and headed to Judith's room where his dad was, and he was going to let him know the good news about Carol sleeping.

– – –

The meeting cut all the loose ends off. They were separating into four groups: Meds, equipment, outside guard, the men who would be protecting their exit, and inside guard, the men who were to guard those moving heavy equipment. Maggie was leading Meds with Denise. Daryl and Michonne were in charge of the groups moving equipment, Glenn was going to be with the outside guards to keep the number of walkers low—or draw them away from the cars. Glenn had the most vital job. If they couldn't get out of the hospital, they were all dead, and this was all for naught. That's why they entrusted this to Glenn. He was good at getting in and out without any hassle, and he had a good group of men and women to stand by him, who were willing and keen to follow his orders. They had a good feeling about this run.

Carl was confident that he could teach Judy how to walk fairly quickly, and he was pleased to see she was a quick learner. She was more interested in getting her toys back, but still. She was learning, and she had decent balance. His goal was to get her walking before Carol's baby was born, and he was sure he could do that. Though he wasn't sure when he could teach her how to talk. He'd have to ask his dad when it was time to begin teaching her. He'd leave potty training to the professionals.

Carol hadn't gotten out of bed much that day, though she did eat the meals Carl had brought her. She put on a smile when he and Judith joined her for a late breakfast and lunch, and she forced the food down her throat. She had so many things on her mind, but she was actually glad to have Carl there, not Daryl. He might want to speak on what she'd told him, and she couldn't. She was exhausted, and she didn't want to push further into those memories. She didn't want to know what more damage it would do to her.

Maggie and Enid worked with Denise to try and wrangle up a fresh walker after the meeting was over but they weren't so lucky. Denise decided to take Enid out tomorrow to hunt for one, as it was vital to her lessons, and the books weren't going to suffice this time. Denise asked Maggie and Glenn for permission, which was a little surprising as they hadn't mentioned their adoption of Enid to anybody just yet. They learned Enid had told Denise about it during class, and it flooded them with affection and warmth. Maggie said she was going to come with them just to lend them a hand, and Glenn would have offered, but he had been recruited by Daryl to help him with something unknown yet. Glenn hoped it wasn't dangerous or...weird, but it was Daryl coming to him in the middle of the evening and whispering to him that he needed his help. He'd just have to wait and see, but he hoped it was nothing serious in a negative way.

––

"Enid's washin' up." Maggie set the table, glancing at her husband as he spooned out lumpy potatoes. She gripped the back of the chair and sighed. "Are you okay with us goin' out tomorrow?"

"Yeah." He continued to spoon them out and let them plop back down into the pot.

"You don't seem okay." She walked over to him and caught the spoon.

He blinked. "I'm okay with it. I know how capable you all are, and it's just for a day. I'm just trying to figure out how to make smooth potatoes. Carol makes it look so easy."

She laughed. "You'll have to ask her."

"I will. Look at this." He smashed down a lump. "It's like a whole potato still."

"I'll borrow a mixer for the next batch." She pulled down the plates. "Stop messin' with them and help me set the table, please."

He set the spoon down and accepted the plates she'd handed him. "Speaking of help, I have to help Daryl with something...some time."

"What?" She dug out forks and faced her husband. "Help him with what? And when?"

"I honestly have no clue." He shrugged his shoulders. "He just asked me to help him, and I don't know when or where or with what. I'm a little scared."

"Don't be. He probably wants help tellin' Carol he loves her." She tensed as soon as the words fell out of her mouth and winced. She hadn't told Daryl she wouldn't tell anybody. Right? Oh, shit. Though most people knew, but she didn't want to start blabbing other people's feelings like this. To her husband or not. This was a sensitive subject for Daryl, and they needed to approach it delicately, not spewing it to everyone in the world and their brother.

Glenn smiled though. "He's finally gotten there then."

Maggie set the utensils down. "Yeah."

"It's about time." He set the table, taking the forks Maggie had placed on the table. "I hope it goes well."

She leaned against the counter. "Do you remember when Andrew attacked the prison? When we lost...Lori and T-dog?"

"Of course."

"We thought we'd lost Carol too." She crossed her arms and swallowed. "I road with Daryl to get formula for Judith. We both couldn't stand to lose anybody else that day." He nodded her on. "Well, on the way to find formula...Daryl stopped the bike. I thought he'd spotted a small, local owned store or somethin', but...he couldn't drive anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"I didn't realize it until later, but...the last person to ride on that bike with him was Carol. I think it caught up to him, and he just...stopped. I mentioned losin' Lori, and I could still feel her blood on my hands, under my nails and...between my fingers..." She shuddered. "And I spoke carelessly. He was so rigid, and it hit me that his best friend had died...and there was no sign of a body, not like T, not like Lori. There was nothin' to bury, and that would make mournin' her so much worse.

"And he had to consider the possibility that Carol suffered an agonizing death and she was roamin' the halls of the prison, just...waitin' for one of us to find her." She expelled a sigh. "My apology didn't mean much, but I still gave it. He put on a good show after that. I think he didn't want anyone to see him like that. He didn't want to be comforted."

"That sounds like how he used to be."

"He doesn't know that I saw, but when we found that daycare, I saw a wall littered with hand prints. They were cut from paper with the kids' names written on them, and there was some with the name 'Sophie'. The pain his eyes revealed..." She gulped. "It reminded me of when the prison fell. When I couldn't find you, when...my mind made me think the worst... That's where he was then. I know how much I love you now, and I can imagine how much he loves her now, and I'm happy for him, so whatever he needs your help for, help him. He's...clueless with love and romance."

"And I'm the master of it?"

"God, no." She walked over him as he feigned wounded, and she wrapped her arms around his waist. "But you're good at showin' people how to find their own way. Daryl needs that right now."

"Well, since you put it so nicely," he cupped the back of her neck, "I'll do my best."

"I know you will." She kissed him.

"Okay, the teenager isn't a big fan of the adults making out," Enid teasing upon entering the room.

"Well, the teenager should just get used to it then." Glenn smirked at her.

"Or the adults could get a room." Enid smiled lightly and sat down. "Or, you know, feed me 'cause I'm starving, and it smells good in here."

"That we can do." Maggie grasped the pot of potatoes and set them on the table. "I hope you like potatoes and carrots 'cause we got a lot of 'em."

Enid laughed. "That sounds...delicious."

"We also have some leftover meat." Glenn held up the pan.

"Oh, thank God." Enid exhaled.

They busted out laughing at the relief in her voice, Enid couldn't have apologized even if she wanted to, because they were all laughing at this point. It was the most Enid had laughed in a long time, and she kept the smile long after the laughter had stopped. Maggie and Glenn seated themselves at the table, Maggie grasped of their hands to say grace, and Enid bowed her head, her smile widening at the feel of Glenn and Maggie's hands tightening ever so slightly around hers. It was a feeling she hadn't felt in far too long, the feeling of family.


	24. My Love

Rays of golden light streamed in through the slightly closed blinds, her small fingers twitching as she inhaled deeply, rousing from a fitful sleep. Her vision was blurry upon her eyelids parting, and she moaned, blinking to try and adjust her vision, and she pushed herself up, swallowing a yawn.

"Hey." It was a gentle sound, a whisper by the door.

She looked over at him and inhaled, turning her eyes back to the window. "Is it today?"

"Yeah." He nodded and remained in the doorway. "We're headin' out soon. I'd give it a minute or two."

She exhaled without a sound.

"It'll be a while," he continued, "so we ain't gonna come back tomorrow or the next day, so you don't gotta keep an eye out."

"Daryl..."

"I'll bring somethin' back," he reassured her, "for the kid."

She couldn't speak through the lump in her throat, but her grasp on the sheets tightened. She couldn't look at him, as he was a figure bathed in light, features hidden by shadows. She didn't want to think of him that way, if he didn't come back. She didn't want this to be the last image. Her mind would show it to her over and over instead of the laughing man on the bus who'd just given her a message, the kind man who had carried her back to shelter, the relentless searcher who tried to find her daughter. The messy hunter who wouldn't take a shower if his life depended on it yet had time to mock her... That was who she wanted to remember. Good or bad, that was the Daryl she always wanted in her heart.

"Be safe."

Nine lives, remember? She pressed her lips together tightly, tears prickling up in her eyes, and she broke her rule. She turned to look at him, but he had already gone. She shuddered and released the blanket to clasp her hand over her mouth.

–48 Hours Earlier–

"Do you think it'll be a girl or a boy?" Glenn inquired, packing a lunch for his family. They had a walker hunt to go on today, and he wasn't invited, but he knew his wife and...his daughter could take care of themselves. He knew he'd be scrubbing mud out of Maggie's hair come morning, and he'd be scolding Enid for being so reckless with her belongings. She was a mess teenager, believe it or not. She kept the valuables close, but the rest was scattered on the floor. He could only imagine what her backpack would look like when they headed out.

"Hmm...I'm bettin' on a boy." Maggie snapped the small first aid kit closed and placed it into her pack. "But I kinda hope it's a girl."

"Why do you say that?"

"'Cause I know how to take care of a baby girl." She remembered when Beth was a baby. "I...I know a boy ain't all that different, but I have experience with girls. Beth, Judith...hell, even the animals on the farm."

He smiled at how the quivering tone of anguish at the mention of Beth and the farm didn't cling to her words, simply danced in her eyes, and he reached over and grasped her hand affectionately. "Maybe we'll have a girl."

"Give you somethin' else to stress about." She chuckled and squeezed his hand, releasing it to nonchalantly brush her thumb under her eye. "You're gonna be a godfather to this baby."

"Yeah." He sucked in a breath. "I don't know how to feel about that. I mean, I'll give it my all. I'll make Tobin proud, but...I don't know. The things Tobin wanted me to teach this baby... I'm not sure I can."

"You can." She smiled at him. "Raise like you lead—by example."

"I don't think Carol wants me taking little baby it out into the world to raise by example."

"You know what I mean. You're a great leader, and this baby will benefit just from having you in its life." She zipped up her pack and strutted over to him, tucking hair behind his ear. "You have an air about you, and it's contagious. The baby will look at you, his or her godfather, and they'll see someone to aspire to be."

"Yeah, but I don't want the baby to try and be someone its not."

"Then you'll be there to lead them toward the person they're meant to be with the proper morals and skill to survive." She laced her fingers through his hands. "You'll do the same for our own kids."

He couldn't help but grin. "You know I'll have more parenting experience with a newborn than you, right? I mean, we're raising Enid together, and granted it is only the godfather, but still a father to a newborn. You were just a kid with Beth, so it doesn't count."

"I know." She stomped her foot and pulled away to put some apples in the lunch Glenn was preparing. "I shouldn't be mad that Carol hasn't pick a godmom. I want her to be there to raise the baby, but man, I'm so jealous." She sent him a slight glare.

Glenn laughed. "I knew it."

"I'm gonna be there to help Carol raise this baby, godmother or not, but I'm just a peeved that I couldn't be the godmom."

"She hasn't even said anyone is the godmom. You still have a chance."

"That is true." She bit into an apple then lowered it. "I can make her pie." She swallowed. "Don't pack those." She hurried over to stop him. "She didn't make those cookies, right? I can use those ingredients to make a pie!"

He saw a sparkle in her eye and nodded at her, taken in by her enthusiasm. "I'm sure she'll love it."

"You think? I ain't the best cook." She looked at him and saw an endless sea of confidence. It warmed her heart, and she kissed him. "I have a teenager to collect, so if you'll excuse me." She bit into the apple again and marched out of the kitchen to find Enid upstairs.

Twenty minutes later Glenn was walking between his wife and adopted daughter, heading to the gate where Tara and Denise were talking, and he chuckled at how Tara played with the spear Denise had gotten from Hilltop. She was trying to look as badass as Michonne, but it was Tara. And a spear. And no grace whatsoever. It was hilarious.

"Jealous of my sweet moves?" Tara grasped the spear like a walking stick and squinted at the man.

"If that's what you want to call them," Glenn replied, repressing a snicker poorly.

"Don't make me kick your ass in front of your wife and kid." Tara winked at Enid, puffing up her chest. "I can take you."

"All right." Maggie stepped in. Joking or not, they had places to be, and this exchange was wasting daylight. "We have things to do today, remember?"

"We're wasting daylight." Denise set her hand over Tara's on the spear. "I have to go, so you're in charge of the clinic. I asked Carol to cover for me, and she's in the clinic now, but if she gets overwhelmed, take over."

"Yes, ma'am." She released the spear. "You guys be careful out there, all right?"

"We will be." Maggie hugged her goodbye and approached the gate Spencer was opening, holding her arm out toward Enid, who caught up to her and wrapped her arm around her waist, smiling at the squeeze Maggie gave to her shoulder. "We'll be back as soon as we can."

"It's not soon enough." Glenn walked over to the gate with Tara beside him, stopping a few feet away. "I'll see you when you get back. Listen to Maggie and Denise, okay, Enid?"

She rolled her eyes and smirked. "Of course."

"Don't roll your eyes at me." He was stern, but he sounded like his own father, and that felt peculiar. Like a tingle in the back of his throat, and he swallowed it.

"Okay. I'll listen." She turned her smirk into a smile. "You guys be careful here, take care of Carol."

"Of course." Tara mimicked her eye roll and smirk. "I'm the godmom, so yeah, I'm on it."

"Says who?" Maggie barked.

"Says me." Her smirk widened, and she turned to Denise. "I'll see you soon."

"Is that a question?" She squinted behind her glasses, a puff of white smoke chasing her words.

"No." She stepped back by Glenn and nodded to Spencer. "It never was."

They waved goodbye, the girls disappeared behind the gate and all too soon so did their shadows. Glenn and Tara stood there a moment, taking in the absences of the people—the women—they loved, and they nodded to themselves before getting to work.

"Not to ruin the mood, but my girlfriend looks more kick ass than your wife," Tara teased at Glenn on their walk to their individual jobs, which happen to be in the same direction.

"A spear in hand verses a sixteen-year-old under your arm—it's not hard to beat."

She nudged him. "Mama Maggie. It's cute."

He smiled at her. "So are you."

She rolled her eyes. "I don't know what you mean."

"You're settling down, and...you're happy." He nudged her back. "It's cute."

"And there you go, turning this into an After School Special."

He laughed. "Don't you have a job to do?"

"Don't you?"

"It's where I'm going." He gestured forward towards construction.

"Same to me." She turned toward the clinic, waving to him over her shoulder before jogging back to have breakfast with the substitute doc.

– – –

Carl caught Judith and scooped her up before she fell over, smiling warmly at his sister, and he stroked her hair. "Good job, Judy!" She was just like him and their mom: a quick learner. She was already able to walk five feet, and she almost made it across the living room. He was so proud of her. He couldn't wait to be able to take her outside and hold her hand and walk slowly with her, but carpet before cut up knees.

"What 'good job'?" Michonne had heard the cheer from upstairs twice before and decided to come check it out.

"She's walking." He held her close, grinning. "She doesn't get very far yet, but she's getting better every try. Look."

Michonne watched him steady the girl, his eye in her eyes as he assured his baby sister without a whisper of a word that he was there and he'd be there to catch her should she lose her balance, and her heart nearly burst in her chest. She watched him keep her still as he back away and lowered himself down onto one knee then urged her to walk toward him. She jerked forward some, remembering teaching her own son to walk, as Judith put one small leg in front of the other until she was wrapping her arms around Carl, tugging his hat off his head.

"Impressive." She joined the pair, kneeling down.

"I know, right? I've only spent a couple hours teaching her. I bet Dad has too, which makes this a little less impressive, but still. It was a joint effort." Carl chuckled and picked up his hat. "Here, you wanna borrow it?"

"I don't think she's ready to be in the club just yet." Michonne swiped the hat and placed it back on his head. "But she is ready for a snack. It's about that time."

"She is getting fussy." He caught her little hand. "So, what'll it be today? Mashed peas? Or mashed bananas?"

"Surprise her."

"I think we might have some blueberries left." He lifted her up. "They're not sweet, but she hasn't had them before."

"I'll give you a hand." She set a hand on his shoulder. "Are these blueberries a reward for her walking?"

"No." He shook his head. "I already have her reward."

They entered the kitchen, Michonne prepared a snack for Judith, making sure it was evenly mashed, and Carl sat down at the island, his arms around Judith's little stomach. The girl watched Michonne's every move, reaching for her now and then, and Carl gave in to her reaching by lifting her up onto the counter. Michonne then moved the snack aside and pulled Judith to her, keeping her on the counter and making music to playfully dance with her. Judith enjoyed this, giggling at her and reaching for her even more. Michonne wasn't sure her heart could take raising this little girl, but there was also no chance in hell of her missing out on this.

"Okay." Michonne set Judith down in her brother's lap, spooning out the mashed blueberries. "What's her reward?"

"Stories. I'll tell them to her every night regardless, but it's still a reward." He kissed the top of her head.

"What kind of stories?" She fed Judith her snack, watching bemused pass her eyes then enjoyment. She was reaching out for more. The bit of sugar she added must have helped.

"Of my mom." He then amended, "Our mom."

She nodded.

"I had a picture—well, you know. You helped me get it, but I lost it. Now all I have are memories, and I want her to have them too. I want her to know our mom, even if it's just in stories." He peered down at his sister with regret in his eyes. "She won't know how kind Mom was or how soft her hands were or how painful but necessary her haircuts were. She won't know how beautiful she was or how bad a cook she was. She'll just hear about it, and it doesn't do her justice, but at least she'll know, you know?"

She nodded. "I think it's a great idea."

"You do?"

"She should know about Lori, and you're the best person to tell her." She reached out and pinched his chin teasingly, he pulled his chin back, and she laughed. "I bet she used to make the same face."

He smiled at the thought. "She did, only with a stronger jaw."

She laughed. "I saw the picture. She was beautiful, and I bet Judith will look just like her."

"Me too." His heart throbbed at the mention of his mom, but it was an old wound. Well, that wasn't the right word. It wasn't old. Losing a parent, someone who brought you into this world, loved you unconditionally, did what they had to do for your best chance...wasn't something that could become an old wound. It would never truly heal, and a wound seemed like a small cut. Losing his mom as he had was a gaping hole in his heart, one Judith and Michonne and his family could only just cover. If he looked at it hard enough, they weren't covering it or filling it; it was still there. Her unconscious face, her blood soaking the floor, her agonized screams in his ear, it was all still there.

"Hey." Michonne grasped his chin again. "Don't go there."

He swallowed and nodded slowly.

"You have a story to tell," she reminded him. "A painful haircut?"

His smile returned as did the memory of that day at the quarry. "Yeah, it started out with me and Sophia playing with Violet and the others, and Mom called to me. She'd gotten tired of my hair in my eyes. So she called me over..."

Rick stood just outside the kitchen as Carl told Michonne and Judy about the haircut Lori had given him, his ring finger twitched, and he smiled to himself. Lori would be proud of the young man he was becoming. A little peeved at how hotheaded he could be, how impulsive and blindly brave he was, but proud. He was damn proud of him too. He only wished Lori could be here to see them both. It was an odd request that did odd things to his heart, and he didn't know if God was real or if Heaven existed, but it wasn't enough. Believing, or trying to believe, she was watching over them wasn't enough. It simply wasn't.

––

The clinic was empty, Tara was collecting all the exam papers Denise and Enid had left behind, and Carol sat outside on the steps, the cool breeze ruffling her blouse and sending goosebumps across her flesh. The wind kissed her lower stomach, and she shuddered, but not from the cold. She knew what it was, and she rubbed her arms, closing her eyes. She couldn't pretend it didn't happen. She couldn't sweep this under a rug. It would come to light on its own. It would show its unwanted face and destroy everything.

Unwanted? Was that the word to use here? She didn't want it right now, not when she was fighting and struggling and losing her grip on herself and reality. She didn't want it when she was so distraught and undeserving. She couldn't be what he needed or wanted, and she knew he couldn't be want she wanted or needed, because she couldn't piece together what the hell it was she wanted. Or even needed beyond space and time.

You took a big step, telling Carol you love her. That was what Michonne had said to Daryl. Telling Carol you love her. It wasn't the type of sentence that could mean two types of love. Carol already knew Daryl loved her, but Michonne was saying in love, not simply love. It wasn't like the love she knew he felt for her already, this new love he felt. It was romantic. It was likely sexual, but it wasn't familial. It wasn't friendly. Telling Carol you love her. That wasn't something to congratulation a man for unless it was love love. I'm happy for you. Whatever the results, I'm with you.

I'm with you, she'd said. Whatever the results. It was simple for her to assume Daryl had told Carol his feelings, but not that Carol had reciprocated them. She could asses the situation of them in bed together, of Daryl looking frumpy as proof of his confession, but...not as proof of Carol returning his affection? Was she so cold that not even Michonne could break through and see her for who she truly was? She should be happy. That was the goal, after all—to hide, to remain hidden under walls of bullshit so deep no one could even see a peek of who she was, of how badly she was hurting, of how she was drowning! The weight of killing people—Karen and David—of killing a child—Lizzie—was far too great for her to bear, and yet her walls were high enough, thick enough to keep out her family. She should be happy. That was the point of walls, was it not?

She pulled her legs in as the wind picked up its pace, rustling through her short hairs, and she closed her eyes. Believing without confirmation that you were hidden among strangers and confirmation that you were hidden among them and even among those closest to you were two vastly different things. They ignited two varying emotions inside of her, and she wasn't fond of either. They were pounding against her chest and screaming in her veins, and there was no way to still them. She couldn't close her eyes and plug her ears to them, and her mask was crumbling at the intensity of them. How long before it slipped clean off? Again?

She buried her face in her palms, the pressure of them boiling over inside of her.

– – –

Maggie stepped over a branch miles away from Alexandria, Enid was talking to Denise, going over the muscle system, and Denise only had to correct her about ten times. It was impressive, given how large the muscle system was, and the different sections. Maggie had helped Enid study them after dinner last night, and Glenn had helped her with them this morning at breakfast. She'd been working on it for longer than two days, it was obvious, just like her dedication. It was awesome.

"So, how far are we going out?" Maggie turned to Denise. "I packed enough food for us to be good for a couple days, but I'd like to know exactly how far and how long we'll be out here."

"I'd say a day and a half. With the hospital run so soon, I don't want to push it." They had made plans in case they didn't come back on time, but Denise hoped to be there. If they didn't find their walker, they'd come back another day. They were other subjects she could teach Enid in the meantime.

She nodded. "Well, it's pretty quiet here. I'd say we'd have to go further out. We should have brought a car."

"There's car outside of town we can use." Enid caught up to Maggie. "I found it when I was wandering. It was before you guys came. It has gas, and it runs decently. I can't drive, otherwise I would have... I don't know, brought it back."

Maggie frowned at the other use for the car. "Well, lead the way then."

Enid lowered her eyes and changed their route. They walked in silence for a good mile, Denise didn't want overhear any conversation the two would have, so she took point. Maggie and Enid were about five feet behind her, their pace equal, and Enid tightened her grip on her backpack straps. She studied Maggie whose eyes were trained ahead, alert.

"Maggie," Enid started in a low tone, "I wasn't going to use it to leave."

She didn't say anything.

"I honestly just found it. I was curious, and it did start. That's all I did with it. I'm not stupid enough to leave a good home."

She barely nodded, her eyes scanning the area.

"Maggie, I wasn't—"

"Shh." Maggie stopped walking, Denise heard her tone and stopped too, and Enid searched the treeline where Maggie was staring. "Get behind me."

"I can take care of myself."

"I know." Maggie grabbed her shirt and pulled her back behind her. "Just stay behind me."

"Maggie," Enid complained under her breath.

"Stay there, Denise." She had seen movement in the trees, but she didn't hear anything. She didn't hear moans, and the movement had stopped. Walkers weren't that aware. They didn't hide, and they were never quiet for long. It had to be a person. They were being stalked, and Maggie didn't like that. She wouldn't let this fucker get any closer or follow them any longer.

There. She saw a flash of color in the woods, her grip on Enid's sleeve tightened, and Enid followed Maggie's gaze, trying to see what had her attention. She didn't see anything, though her view was blocked by Maggie's back, but still there was nothing she could hear. It was silent. She knew Maggie wasn't seeing things and fighting with her would only distract them from a possible threat, so she stayed closed and stayed still. It was all she could. That, and take out her knife, which she'd already done about two minutes ago.

Suddenly whatever it was jumped out from the trees, Maggie instantly pushed Enid back and shielded her with her body, and Denise readied her spear, but there was no need. It was just a dog. A big yet cute Akita dog. It didn't growl at them as the last dogs they'd seen—and eaten—had, but Maggie was cautious. She didn't let Enid go, and she didn't near the dog.

The dog limped toward them, a collar on her next, and she whimpered, and they were able to see blood—fresh blood—on her coat. She had been attacked by walkers, just barely gotten out, and she collapsed before them, whining once again.

"Oh, no." Enid ran over to the dog, breaking free of Maggie's grip, and she dropped down to its side.

"Enid." Maggie ran after her.

"We can't leave her like this." Enid set a hand on her head, the dog closed its eyes, seeming to melt into the affection. "We can't."

Maggie lowered herself down beside the dog on the opposite side and noticed her belly. She reached out and inspected it, her throat drying out, and she bowed her head. "She's pregnant."

Enid met her eyes. "How do you know?"

"My daddy was a vet." She scratched under her nose and sighed, reaching for her gun.

"No!" Enid wrapped her arms around the dog, her head blocking the dog's head. "We can't do that!"

"Enid, the puppies won't last without her. They need her milk, and we don't have enough food for ourselves, let alone however many puppies we manage to save."

"No!" Was all Enid would say.

Maggie huffed and turned to Denise for support, but she could see the woman was in agreement with the teenager. She didn't like this, and she didn't want to do this, but she had no choice. There wasn't anything they could do. She was dying, and without her, the pups wouldn't last very long. They would have to find a pet store and find food for the ones that lived. Their mission didn't involve a pet store, and they weren't prepared for a trip like that. It had to be done. For the dog's sake, and for theirs.

"Enid, I'm sorry." She twisted on her silencer.

"Please, Maggie, don't." Enid's eyes pooled with tears as she tried to think of some way to save the puppies, to save the dog in her arms, but she couldn't think of anything. She could only watch as Maggie began to take aim. "Please!"

Maggie jolted at the pleading in her voice, and she lowered her gun. "Enid—"

"We have to try. I know she's not a person, but we have to try." She blinked the tears back. "You said your dad was a vet, so help her! He must have done C-sections before. You lived on a farm too, so you have to know how to do it! You can't just kill her without trying! It might be meaningless, and we might not be able to save the puppies, but it's not right to kill her without trying!"

Maggie searched her green eyes and remembered the last time she had to do this. She swallowed against the lump in her throat and set her gun down, reaching for her knife. She wet her lips and steadied her hand, drawing on the memories she had at the farm. This wasn't like Lori. This wasn't just one baby. It was several, and she had to be careful.

Her eyes met the brown teary ones of the white and honey-colored Akita. "I'm sorry." She made the incision, the dog howled, and Enid shushed her, apologizing against her fur and holding her. Maggie worked as deftly and as carefully as she could, praying she was doing this right. She didn't want to put this dog in more pain in its final moments just for its babies to die too. They might, but...she prayed not.

Denise stood at a distance, keeping her guard up for any walkers who might have heard the dog's whimpers and howls, and she watched as Maggie worked, feeling rather than seeing her determination to keep those puppies alive. She had heard the story of what happened to Lori through Michonne. She had wanted to help Carl in case Carol's pregnancy provoked any foul memories, and she knew what Maggie had done back then. She suspected she looked and moved just like this. She hoped it wasn't for nothing. It might just be in the end, but Enid was right. They had to try. It was all they could do anymore.

After Maggie had finished cutting, the sacks were revealed, but unfortunately they were too late. Maggie still tried nevertheless, Enid could feel the dog passing, and she tried to tell Maggie when suddenly she gasped and reached inside her womb.

"What is it?" Enid sat up.

"I need a blanket. Or—or a shirt. Now!"

Enid shrugged out of her hoodie, pulling off her t-shirt and leaving her in a tank top. She handed it over to Maggie who wrapped the puppy in it and whipped it, and Enid stared, not sure what Maggie was doing. She trusted she knew best, as she was the vet's daughter, and she hurriedly put her hoodie back on, the cold air licking her exposed skin.

Maggie sat back and moved away the shirt to reveal a small puppy wriggling in her lap. She was adorable, the same white as her mom but with white and brown shaping her upper body and face. She was so tiny, and she would get hungry soon. Without her mom's milk...with those nutrients, she wouldn't last long. They needed to find a pet store.

"She's okay?" Enid crawled over to Maggie. "She's moving."

"Yeah." Maggie smiled at the girl, offering the shirt wrapped pup. "Easy."

"You did it." Enid grasped Maggie's hand, ignoring the blood and fluid there. "You saved her."

Maggie's eyes fell to her siblings, she felt Enid's forehead knock against her chin, and she smiled, turning her head back to the newborn pup. She saw the mom watching them, a haze in her eyes, and Maggie reached for her gun, but there was little point. She was fading, and the last thing she saw was one of her babies wriggling in Enid's arms, the arms of someone who had just fought for her, someone she could trust would fight for her child too. It was a beautiful last sight.

"There's a pet store a couple miles out of town," Denise spoke up. "I...I know the way."

"You do?" Enid stood up, hugging the puppy in her arms. "We have to go there. I know the whole point of this was for me to learn the muscle system, but we can still do that too. This is just...a side task. We can't let her die. We can't. Besides there aren't any walkers here. Useful ones, anyway."

"And we won't." Maggie wiped her hands on her jeans. "We'll go get that car and go find her food. We'll need puppy chow and actual dog food, bowls, a collar. I just hope they have the formula we'll need for her."

"They should," Denise replied.

"Then let's get goin'. She's gonna need food soon." Maggie slipped her knife back into its sheath and removed the silencer, her eyes falling on the deceased dog. She looked at Enid and Denise. "I'll catch up to you guys in a bit, okay?"

"What are you going to do?"

"I can't leave her like this. Not for walkers to find."

"We don't have a shovel."

"I know." Maggie turned away from them, knowing she had a lighter in her pack. "Just go on ahead. I'll catch up."

"Maggie." Enid stepped forward.

"Hey, we have to get food for this one." Denise pointed to the pup. "We need to get to that car, so why don't you show me the way? Hmm?"

Enid glanced from Denise to Maggie and back, stepping towards Denise, and she turned to her, walking beside her without looking back. She kept her eyes on the little bundle in her arms, feeling Denise wrap an arm around her shoulders, and she steeled herself. They had a long way to go, for the puppy and for Enid herself, so no tears. No thinking back to how alike she and this puppy were. Just keep moving forward, because that was all there was.

––

Carol walked the street that afternoon, Carl and Rosita were on the porch with Judith, and she could smell cooking. She was hungry. She had just eaten a snack and yet she felt like she hadn't eaten anything in the past year. She hoped whatever was cooking was good. She couldn't make out all the smells, but it was damn near heavenly.

"That's cheating." Carl slapped his cards down.

"Nope, that's poker." She smirked. "You'll learn it one day."

He pursed his lips. "It's cheating."

She laughed and collected the cards, seeing Judith playing in the yard. "You might want to get a pin for that one." She hopped up to collect the little girl.

Carl finished gathering the cards, Rosita caught Judith in the street and held her hands, turning her back towards the house, and she was smiling at how confused the little girl was. She didn't know why she wasn't moving, even though she was walking. Rosita still held her hands. It was so cute.

"Hey." Spencer walked over to her and Judith.

Her smile fell. "What do you want?"

"To talk. Just for a moment."

"I have to help Rick with Judith right now, so talk fast."

Carol sat down on the porch as Carl shuffled the cards back into their box, he offered her a smile and hopped up to check on lunch for her. She hadn't even asked or said she was hungry, he simply did it to do it, and she smiled a little. She heaved a sigh and watched Rosita and Spencer bicker as Judith stared off toward the pond. It was a shame it was contaminated with gasoline. It'd be a nice place to swim in the summer.

A jacket dropped onto her shoulders, she looked up as Rick sat down beside her, and she tugged it closer to her. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." He leaned back on his palms. "They're leaving the morning after next."

"I heard." She peeked at him. "Why are you bringing it up?"

"I just...want you to know I'm here for you." He met her eyes. "Whatever you need, I'm here. You can lean on me. I don't mind."

"I think Michonne might."

"Then feel free to lean on her too." He smirked at her, and she almost returned it. "When Daryl and Glenn leave town, for however long they'll be gone, you have us. You can come to us with anythin', and we'll be there for you." He softened his smirk to a fond smile. "Okay?"

She nodded. "Okay."

He reached out and squeezed her shoulder compassionately before rising. His attention rapidly fell on Rosita and Spencer, who were now bickering in the street loudly. Rosita had her arms folded across her chest, going off on him for being pushy, and Spencer was trying to get a word—any word—in. Rick shook his head at the pair and heard Michonne call to him. "Lunch is about done."

Carol didn't hear him as she noticed Judith had vanished from between Rosita and Spencer. She shot up and off the porch, her heart racing in her throat at the ripples that danced on the pond's surface.


	25. Forever And A Maybe

Carol bolted off the porch towards the pond, Rosita and Spencer turned as she ran by, and no one knew what the hell had happened until both Carol and Aaron had plunged into the pond. Rosita looked down instantly to see Judith was gone and ran towards the water, and Spencer followed.

"Judith!" Rosita could see both Aaron and Carol's figures in the water, but not the baby's. "No, no."

Rick and Michonne came barreling out of the house at the cry of their daughter's name, Carl right behind them, and Rick was ready to jump into the water after them when he saw someone nearing the surface holding his daughter in their arms.

––

Carol's skin shuddered the moment she dove headfirst into the freezing pond. She could feel the icy water wrapping around her and numbing her as she dove deeper, trying to see Judith. The water was clear on the surface, but once below it was dark. Judith was wearing a dark purple jumper today, so Carol couldn't hope to see her clothes, and the little girl always tugged her socks off, so there was no use trying to find the white socks. She would just have to hope to find her. And soon. She was small, and the water was freezing to even Carol, and she likely had already swallowed water.

A splashing sound caught her attention briefly, but Carol spotted color just below her. She was running out of air, but she didn't care. She couldn't resurface without that little girl. She refused to let anything happen to her. She meant the world to Carol, and she meant the world to Carol's best friend. She wouldn't let Lori's death become meaningless. She wouldn't let that happen. She wouldn't lose this precious child.

She kicked harder and reached out, her fingers gabbing the motionless body of Lori's child, and she pulled her into her arms, preparing to surface when something caught her pant leg. She looked down and saw a walker. She tried to kick its grip loose, but she was underwater, her movements were slower. She couldn't get enough force. She couldn't get free holding Judith, and obviously the little girl didn't float, so she couldn't hope to let her go and have her float to safety. She couldn't kill the water at this angle either. There was nothing...nothing.

Her lungs burned, her brain screaming at her for air, right now, and she couldn't keep her lips from parting, choking on the water. She couldn't breathe, and she was choking. Her heart began to race, she couldn't pull free from the walker, and she couldn't save Judith. She couldn't move, and she couldn't kill. She couldn't do anything! She could only drown with a little girl in her arms.

Suddenly her foot was free, the splash from moments ago was Aaron, and he wrapped his arms around her, guiding her and Judith to the light. They broke through the surface together, taking in the air, coughing and sputtering and moving towards the grass. Carol held out Judith, Michonne took her and began CPR at the realization that she wasn't breathing, and Aaron held Carol as she shuddered and coughed out water, unable to pull herself out of the pond just yet.

"Here." Eric held his hands out, and Aaron gave Carol a boost, and they got her out of the water. "Easy, easy." He removed his jacket and wrapped her in it, though it did little against the cold air and her wet body.

"Is she br—breathing?" Carol gasped.

"No." Rosita shook her head.

Carl whimpered in frustration at his seemingly lifeless baby sister. "Why isn't it working?"

"I—I've never done CPR on a child," Michonne confessed.

"Let me." Carol moved beside her and performed CPR. When she was pregnant with Sophia, she'd made sure to learn all she could to avoid losing her daughter. She'd learned this and the Heimlich and a lot of other things. She wanted to cover everything, because that little was the only light in her life with Ed. She wouldn't let the world take her baby girl from her.

Suddenly wails came from the little girl, Rick sobbed and embraced her to sooth her. Michonne curled up beside him and stroked her hair. She placed a kiss to those wet locks and rose to grab a towel from the house. Eric and Aaron exhaled deeply at the sight of her crying, Rosita apologized to Rick, and Spencer ducked his head and apologized as well. Rick shook his head, unable to speak, simply grateful she was okay.

"What the hell?" Daryl ran over, dropping down beside a still soaking wet Carol, and he noted Judy and Aaron were wet too. "Are you okay? Is she okay?" He studied the sobbing toddler.

"Carol saved her." Aaron ran a hand through his hair. "She'd wander off and fell into the pond. I saw her fall in while Eric and I were walking. Carol got her out."

His eyes now studied the pale woman only inches from him. "That so?" Her eyes were locked on Judith, and she didn't speak. Daryl wrapped an arm around her and helped her stand. "You needa get out of these wet clothes. C'mon."

"You ought to too." Eric looked over his boyfriend. "Let's get home."

He nodded. "Denise is still out, but we should make sure she doesn't have any water in her lungs."

"How? We don't have the equipment or skill for that." Rosita reminded him. "That's why we have a run planned."

"We?" Daryl didn't remember her signing up.

"Yeah, we." She stood up. "You need another person to cover with Glenn, right? I make sixteen."

"Are you sure?"

She looked at Judith and Carol and nodded. "I'm sure."

"Talk to Tara. I gotta get her outta these wet clothes." Daryl guided Carol into the house and to her bedroom. He turned on the shower and set a towel on the sink for her. "It's all set up in there, so why don't you just shower? I'm gonna check on Judy, but I'll be back with some tea, or warm broth."

She simply stood there, shaking like a leaf and dropping onto the floor, crystal eyes unfocused.

"Carol?" He set a hand on her shoulder. "You all right?"

Her eyes met his. "I—I saved her... Judith."

"You did. She's fine. Just...shook up is all."

"No, I saved her." Tears pooled in her eyes. "I did. Like last time, I saved her..."

He frowned. "You saved her, yeah, now you gotta get out of these wet clothes. C'mon, please."

"She's all right." Her breathing was too quick, and he saw the panic attack too late.

"Hey, hey." He held her waist to keep her on her feet. "She's fine, and you are too." He smiled a little. "Just breathe. C'mon, breathe with me. \"

Water dropped from her wet hair down her nose, and she couldn't. She closed her eyes tightly, he grasped her hand and set it over his chest, pulling her close so that he could rest his chin on her shoulder. He didn't hush her, simply waited as her breathing begin to even out and match his, and he smiled to himself when her hot breath stopped blowing against his neck. He still needed to get her out of those clothes. She wasn't entirely in the right mind, so he'd stay with her for a bit longer. He didn't mind.

"I'm cold," Carol murmured against his shoulder, trembling against him.

"Yeah, let's get you in the shower." He peeled off Eric's jacket and set it on the sink. He pulled her toward the shower. "C'mere."

She studied him for a moment. He removed his boots then bent down and removed hers, she nearly lost her balance, but she used his shoulder for support. She could feel the muscles underneath as he gently freed her foot from her boot. He didn't remove anything else, only straightened up and pushed the glass door open more. She opened her mouth as he stepped under the spray of warm water, and it quickly soaked through his shirt.

He pushed his wet hair back and moved aside. "Told you I'd be here, and I meant that."

She smiled weakly, not even a shadow of her normal smiles, and she joined him. She shuddered when the warm water hit her skin, but it felt nice. She sank down into a ball, the water splashing down on her, and she closed her eyes. Daryl sat beside her, not saying a word or even touching her apart from their hips, and she turned to lean into him, her knees just barely hanging over his, her back against the tilted shower wall, her head as well.

"The last time I saved her," Carol whispered, eyes barely open, and Daryl listened closely to her words, "I had lost Mika. I had to..." She exhaled shakily. "There was a price last time, and I can't pay it again."

"You don't have to."

"But I did, and I know...it was different. I do, it just feels like...something I did or didn't do will come back to hurt us. I just can't figure out what it is."

"There's nothin'."

"And if there is?"

"There ain't." His voice was assuring, soft and stern, and she had to look at him. "There ain't a price. You and Aaron saved her. She's gonna be just fine, and there's nothin' you need to worry about, expect for gettin' warm."

"You sound so sure."

He frowned. "And you don't."

"Maybe I'm just used to the world punishing me."

"You don't deserve it."

"How do you know?"

"I just do. You're a good person, and bad things have happened to you—to everybody—but it isn't your fault. It isn't punishment. It's just...how things turned out."

"It feels like the world makes time to remind me of all I've done, all I've lost..." She shook her head. "It aches so much I can hardly breathe from the burden of it."

"I can't put myself in your shoes," he admitted, peering at her through wet, clinging bangs. "The strength you have... I don't got that, and I'm not sure I coulda done what you did, but I would've had to have. Rick would've had to have. She was a danger to Judith, to you and Ty. To any group that would that might have had her, and if she wasn't a danger to them, they were a danger to her. You did what was best, even if it didn't feel that way."

"Is that how it was with Beth?"

He shook his head. "No. We were reckless. We... I should've taken command, should've led us somewhere safe, somewhere close to Maggie and any survivors. I didn't." He bowed his head. "I didn't do a damn thing for a long while. I let a kid flounder at leadership while I sat there like a stump."

"Do you still blame yourself?"

"For those asshole takin' her?" He inhaled. "Yeah. I shouldn't have opened that door. I shouldn't have let her go on ahead alone. She didn't want to leave me, didn't want us to separate, but we had to. Tsk, I thought we had to."

"When we found the pecan grove, Mika said to me, "Everything works out the way it's supposed to"." She swallowed tears. "We moved on from the grove, because of her and Lizzie's deaths. We got to Terminus to save you all. And then Beth was able to save me when I was taken. I would have died, because they would have given up on me, but not Beth. She saved my life."

"Everything works out the way it's supposed to," he murmured to himself.

"If I had seen it, if I had prevented it, who knows where we'd be. If you'd even still be alive, or..." She couldn't finish that sentence, and she felt her stomach churning.

"Don't. You don't have to go there."

"But I might." She stared straight ahead. "You're going on a run for what could be weeks long. We won't have any way of knowing if you're alive. You could get separated from the group. Or Glenn could. Or Maggie. We could lose all of you, and...there wouldn't be any closure. Not for weeks, maybe even months. My mind would go there, like the last time."

"The last time?"

"Lizzie asked me if I thought you weren't going to make it back at the prison, when everyone was sick. I didn't want to think about what would happen if you didn't come back, if something happened to you on the way or in that building."

"I'm fine, Carol."

"You won't always return."

"I'll try my damnedest to." He reached over and brushed hair out of her face tenderly. "I can't give my word, but I'll try. Carol, I..." He choked. "I'll try."

She said nothing further, just rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. She knew what he was going to say, and perhaps it was time to let him know she knew. But then he would want to know how she felt. To be honest, she didn't have a clue what her emotions were anymore. They were all over the place, and she didn't know where to begin to decipher them.

––

Daryl warmed up some broth for Carol, his hair still damp, but he was dry. He'd changed and left Carol to change. He hoped she was under the covers. It was cold outside, and the water could have given her a cold. He didn't want that to happen, so he would have to try and keep her inside. Until he left, that was, but he knew Rick would take care of her. He knew he didn't have to ask for Rick to do that.

Michonne entered with Judith in her arms. "Someone used up all the hot water."

"Sorry." He looked over the girl. "She all right?"

"For now. Rick and Rosita went to get Denise." She rubbed her back. "I'm just trying to keep her calm."

"I'll ask around and see if anyone has a baby gate now that she's walkin'."

"Looks like you're in daddy mode." She smirked. "I appreciate it."

The tips of his ears burned. "I—I'm just lookin' out for her. I ain't in any mode."

"Daryl, it's okay. You don't have to be embarrassed. You'll make a great dad. It doesn't take a genius to know you'll be there for Carol and the baby, and whether or not you're together, you'll be there."

"About that," he started. "What you saw this mornin'—"

"Hey, Daryl." Carl hurried into the kitchen. "I went upstairs to grab a blanket for Judith, and I walked by Carol's room. I think she's having a nightmare. She's...thrashing, and I couldn't get her to settle down."

He abandoned the broth and ran upstairs, Carl and Michonne chased after him, and he sat down beside her. She had stopped thrashing, but sweat coated her brow, and she was muttering to herself, panting. Daryl wiped her brow and whispered by her ear, words for only her to hear, and Carl was astonished at how quickly she calmed. She opened her eyes and sat up, panting in short, rapid breaths and every inch of her was quaking, and Daryl stroked her hair, asking if she was okay. She didn't reply, simply buried her face in his shoulder, holding onto his arm with both of hers.

Michonne pulled Carl back to let them have this moment now that they had confirmation of her being okay. She sent him to retrieve the broth Daryl had made, and she rocked Judy, seeing she, too, had calmed after today's hectic events. She was glad they were both all right, though her heart would stop racing once Denise looked her over. A professional check up would do her heart a world of good.

Inside Carol's bedroom, Daryl still held her, her face buried in the crock of his neck now, and he smoothed down her hair. He was glad her ears were no where near his chest, otherwise she would hear his heart pounding. He had been worried, so that could be a cause, if she were to hear it. But honestly he'd rather just...hold her and let her focus on her breathing. He didn't want to add to the thoughts haunting her.

"What was it about?" he dared to ask once she'd grown lax against him.

"I don't remember." It was the truth. "I just remember how it felt."

He checked her forehead for a fever, but she was cool. "Stay in bed today, just in case."

She was too tired and weak to argue. "Okay."

"Are you hungry?"

She leaned back against the pillows. "When aren't I?"

He chuckled at the weak, dry smile she'd cracked. "I'll warm up some of the lunch Michonne made."

She nodded.

Carl knocked on the open door. "Sorry to interrupt, but I brought the broth you made up."

"That's not lunch," Carol commented.

"I couldn't find the tea." He accepted the cup. "It's still hot, so blow on it. I'll be right back."

"Michonne and I are going to wait for my dad at the gate, so could you watch Judith?" Carl inquired. "We have to watch the wall anyway while Tara and Rosita go over the plans for the hospital run. Abe's already left with construction, and Sasha's gone to find Morgan to begin a plan on building a fence the pond. There's really no one else. They're all at their jobs."

"It's fine." Carol moistened her lips. "Just make sure she has her elephant. She loves that thing."

He nodded and departed to fetch the toy, Daryl followed him out the door, and Michonne entered to hand over Judy.

"How are you feeling?" She sat on the bed, placing Judy in her lap.

"Dry." She still had prune fingers. "Warm."

"You were in the shower long enough to become a fish. How are you dry?"

"It must have been the heat of the shower." She rolled over. "How's she?"

"A little cranky, mostly scared, but she's calmed down some. She's a tough kid, like her brother."

"Yeah." Carol reached over and stroked Judith's cheek. "I'm glad I was able to get to her in time."

"We all are." Michonne clasped Carol's outstretched hand and squeezed it. "Thank you. Rick would have said it had he been able to speak, and I'm saying it now. Thank you."

She smiled some. "Don't mention it."

"Where'd you learn how to do that?" Michonne asked. "CPR? I mean, for babies."

"Sophia. I wanted to be able to protect her from everything, so learned how to do it. She never had any trouble in the water, but it still helped this one."

"Andre didn't care for water. He didn't even really like to drink it." She smiled in memory. "That's why I never had to learn it. His father knew, just in case, but I didn't think to learn it, especially after the world...changed."

"You never know what skills you'll need, in this life or...that one."

"That's true."

– – –

Maggie swished the beam of the flashlight through the doorway of the pet shop, the sound of flies and nothing else unsettled her, and she stepped inside. They'd knocked on the side to wait for walkers, but none came. Denise entered behind her with Enid and the puppy. They couldn't persuade the girl to stay in the car, so they were all in together.

"Where would puppy stuff be?" Enid looked for any signs on the ceiling to indict where things had once been, but they were covered in thick dust.

"I don't know. I'll look over here. Why don't you look over there, Denise? Enid, search the middle section there." Maggie looked over the small kennel they had on display, and she looked for a blanket to stuff inside. Once she was bigger, they could put her in this at night to sleep in. They'd have to train her if they were going to keep her, and Rick might not like it, but there was no getting rid of this puppy.

Denise found her way to the back, spotting the open back door, and she kept walking, trying to find the supplies they needed for the puppy. She also kept an eye out for any supplies they could use. She wasn't sure if there were any, but she might as well search. This trip wouldn't end entirely fruitless, but a few extra supplies for them would make it even more worth it.

"Oh, God," Enid rasped.

"What?" Maggie shot up and over to her, finding what had made the girl whimper. In the cages in the window were the bones of the animals left behind. Maggie set her arm around Enid and guided her away from them. She suspected a lot of animals had starved to death in their cages, but she hoped to never see evidence of that theory. Now she had. And so had Enid. "Here, just stay here."

"Maggie, I've seen worse."

"Well, I need you to prepare this kennel once I grab a blanket or a small pillow bed for her."

"All right."

Maggie walked up and down the aisle, finding the items she needed for the kennel, and she heard Denise exclaim when she found the dog food and puppy formula. Maggie grabbed a cat carrier to stuff the items for the puppy inside since there weren't any bags. Usable ones anyway.

"There." Maggie bent down. "I don't know if this needs to be warm or not, but she needs to eat now. I found some little bottles." Enid awed at how cute and small they were, and Maggie laughed. "I know. They're so little."

"I can feed her." Enid sat down. "We have some time before we have to go back, right? I'm sure it won't take too long."

"All right. This water ought to be nice and lukewarm by now." Maggie pulled the water bottle out of her backpack and used her flashlight to read the instructions on the container. "Okay." She had to guess on the amount as she didn't have the proper measuring tools, but it seemed right. She shook it up in the water bottle until little clumps stopped clinging to the bottle and poured it into the little nursing bottle.

Enid accepted the bottle. "What if she doesn't take it?"

"Then we'll have to make her." Maggie scooted closer, so her legs were against Enid's, studying the puppy. "Is she even awake?"

"Yeah." Enid nodded.

Denise watched them for a moment then stood up. "I'll load the car. It's about time to start heading back."

"Are you sure? We can still finish this."

"Not with a puppy in tow. There are plenty of other lessons I can teach her until our next trip." She went outside and popped the truck, placing the bags of food inside along with the cat carrier, and she arranged the kennel in the backseat. Enid would likely be back here the entire drive home, so she made sure it was balance without taking up too much room.

She spun around to enter the pet store and was met with a walker. She nearly fell back inside the car in surprised, but hastily caught herself and pushed it back. She reached for the knife Tara had given her and summoned all of her courage. She couldn't panic, not with Enid and Maggie just inside with the puppy. She could handle one walker.

She trust the blade into its skull, groaning at the feel and sound of it, and she yanked it out as it fell to the ground. She felt her stomach twisting, like the first time she'd killed a walker, and she pressed her fingers to her lips. She wouldn't be sick. She wouldn't be sick. She would not be sick. Though those words did little to ease her stomach. She groaned once more and swallowed hard, inhaling slowly, and the churning began to lighten.

It was then that she noticed movement in her peripheral vision. She ducked down and squeezed her eyes shut, cursing under her breath. Her hutch was right about this place. It had been too mute, too untouched, and there was no way there weren't walkers here.

Only there were walkers here. They just weren't in the pet store. They just have heard all the noise they were making and crept out of whatever dark hole they were staying in. Son of a bitch. She couldn't move from here, not without alerting them of her presence, and she couldn't call to Maggie and Enid. She'd be putting them at risk, and she didn't want to do that. She would have to regardless, because she couldn't take on five walkers by herself. One by one, yes, but they were in a group. If she went for one, she'd be going for them all. Damn it.

Denise opened her eyes and saw her spear on the floor of the backseat. It wouldn't simplify this job, but it would allow her to kill at a distance. She just had to time it correctly.

––

"She's drinking!" Enid looked up at Maggie. "Finally."

"I think she likes it." Maggie smiled at the little sounds she made. "Or she was really hungry."

"Probably both." She held the puppy closer.

Maggie glanced up at a shadow in the window, and she scrambled onto her feet, staying slow, and Enid watched her. Maggie put a finger to her lips and pulled her knife from its sheath, following the shadow down until they were at the doorway, but it didn't enter. It kept on stumbling, and she noticed a dead walker by the car.

Denise! She peeked out the doorway to find the blonde crouched down by the car, and she counted five walkers. She had to keep Enid inside the store, because she was vulnerable with the puppy in her arms. Denise was pretty much her only backup, and she could see her reaching for something. It might be the spear. It would only fit on the floor of the backseat.

She waved to get her attention, and when she did, she gestured to the four walkers nearing, and she tried to show Denise her plan of them each taking two. She wasn't sure if she got her plan across or not, but they were out of time. The walkers were right on top of them now.

She threw herself at the first one, stabbing it in the head, and she lunged at the other, thrusting her blade through its temple. She looked up as Denise took out the first of her two, and she hurried over to take out the last. She knew Denise was still new to this, and she didn't mind leaning a hand. They were only four of them this time, so it was nothing. At least Denise managed to kill one. Eugene was such a coward in the beginning. She was proud to say that was no longer the case. They still had a long way to go, but baby steps.

"You okay?" Maggie inspected her.

"Yeah, just...a little shaky." She laughed nervously. "I—I'm not used to this sort of thing."

"It takes time to adjust, but you'll get there. You did good."

"Thanks."

A scream sliced through the calm air between the two women, Enid called out for Maggie, and they both darted towards the pet shop. The walker that had gotten by them had looped around to the open back door, and it now was only being held back by Enid's leg as she lay helpless on the floor, trying to protect the puppy and herself.

Maggie grabbed the back of its shirt as Enid kicked it back, and instead of using her knife, she threw it down and bashed its head in. Her bangs fell in her eyes as she stomped once, twice, three times, her boot sliding on the last as its head caved in. She was panting from the adrenaline that coursed through her, and she turned to Enid, helping her stand up. She looked her over.

"Are you okay?" She looked for any cuts then hugged her. "You're okay."

"I couldn't get my knife with the puppy in my arms," she said into Maggie's shirt, unable to move. "It came out of nowhere."

"Yeah, you can say that again." Denise exhaled.

Maggie glanced at the dead walker that could have killed Enid and panted. "Let's go home."

"Lead the way," Enid replied.

– – –

"Do you have any idea how loved you are?" Carol held the elephant above Judith, lying on her side, head propped up by her hand. "Hmm?" She brought it down to shower kisses over her face, and Judith hugged it. "Hey, that's not fair."

She didn't let go.

"Fine. I'll just have to do it myself." She leaned over and smacked a loud kiss to Judith's face, and Judy giggled. She smiled at her, her free hand falling to her stomach. She stroked her thumb over it and released air from her lungs. In however many months she would have own baby lying beside her, new and adjusting to the world outside of its compact womb. She would see the little hairs atop its head, the hue of its eyes catching in the soft morning light, its little smile when it saw her. She could feel a swell of excitement course through her, but there was the tone of darkness, the undertone of what might happen creeping up on that happy little image, and it strangled her. It tightened its long arms around her body and her neck, and she couldn't break its grasp. It froze her.

She watched Judith for a moment, seeing the same shimmer in her eyes as Lori had, and she wondered if her baby would have that. The same as her or as Tobin, and her stomach clenched. All the happy moments she'd had with Sophia—the rare moments of peace between mother and child—wouldn't exist for her and this new baby. There would always be something. An outside threat, walkers, illness, and even herself now. She knew she could pretend. She could play the part very well. She'd fooled the whole of Alexandria, but this was her child. Her blood. This was a piece of herself that would grow into this world and become...whoever the hell they were going to become. They would meet enough fake people, enough lairs and cheats and villains, and she didn't want to be considered one of them. She wanted her child to know her true self behind the dark roots and cruel memories. She wanted him or her to know the woman she'd been after Ed, the woman she was before...

She closed her eyes tightly and envisioned this bed and this scene with her own baby. She could see the pale white skin, bright eyes shining, some random little onesie Rick or Daryl or even Michonne might find and put him or her in. She looked over this small child and saw the same innocence she'd seen in Sophia. She didn't want them to lose that, to loose the ability to believe people could be good, to be stupidly hopeful, but they would need to be aware. They would need to know the risks and be able to analyze any situation and come out of it alive with as many, if not all, of their team. She didn't know how she was going to do this. This little baby would have to learn so much, and she would have to teach them this. How was she going to do this? When Tobin was alive, she knew it'd be trying, but now? By herself? What she was going to do? How taxing was this going to be?

Her brows furrowed as she sought to try and answer those questions, and suddenly there beside the bed, hands overlapped on the soft blanket was Daryl. Blue eyes keenly watching the small life his heart had sworn to protect, his lips forming a smile at the little yawns it'd given, his hand moving to rub the baby's belly. She could hear that gentle chuckle of sheer bliss escape through his lips as his eyes met hers for just a second then returned to marvel at the little life he'd be nurturing and raising in the years to come. He wouldn't be able to take his off eyes of this baby.

The dark arms that held her shrank back at this picture and the joy it brought, her eyes opened to find Daryl bent over, picking up the elephant toy Judith had thrown off the bed, and her eyes locked on to his every movement. She studied him as he sat down on the bed, his words soundless as he spoke, and she sat up.

"Daryl?"

"Yeah?" He turned more toward her.

"Let's have dinner."

He smirked some. "You just had lunch. I get that the kid demands a lot, but you're gonna get a stomachache."

"No, not now. Tomorrow night, just us."

His tongue thickened, and he could only nod.

"I need to talk to you, and it can't wait until you're back from this run."

"All right."

"Thank you."

His eyes narrowed at that, but Carol had already turned her attention back to Judith, and his heart warmed at the sight of them. He couldn't help but picture what it would look like when it was their baby. Er, her baby. They weren't together, and while he would be there, it wasn't...entirely his yet. He knew he could call it that—theirs—but there was still a wall before he could say it and mean it. From both of them, not just him.

––

Late that night and likely early the next morning, Rick plucked Judith out from in between Carol and Daryl and had Denise look her over. They'd only just gotten back, Rick didn't approve of the puppy, but Carl and Enid were taken with it, and he didn't want to be the bad guy. He demanded they train it well, and they both swore up and down they would. He doubted it, but who knows? Maybe they could.

Judith was all right, a bit grouchy, but all right. He was so thankful, and he nearly suffocated her in a hug. Michonne told him to put her to bed, and she told Carl to go home. He was curled up on the couch with Enid and the puppy, and he didn't want to leave the puppy. He sighed and saw Michonne wasn't going to stop pestering him, so he parted ways with the puppy and Enid.

"Maybe now I can get sleep." Michonne stood in the doorway of the clinic.

"Yeah, me too." Maggie walked over to Enid. "C'mon, sweetie, it's late, and we need to get this one to bed."

"I'm not tired," Glenn said around a yawn.

Maggie laughed and kissed him lightly. "I meant the puppy."

"Oh, me too." He cleared his throat and waved to Michonne and Denise. "Good night."

"Night." Michonne watched the family depart and smiled to herself. Alexandria had done one thing for all of them: given them each their own family. Glenn and Maggie were good parents, and Carol and Daryl would do great with the baby. She and Rick...well, they were still new, still learning each other in this new way, and she was interested in how those couples would handle new ground together—and apart.

– – –

Carol, wrapped in a coat and a blanket, walked through town that afternoon, a glaze in her eyes from oversleeping, and she supposed she should be grateful to have overslept, but she was a little grumpy. She had a huge talk to have with Daryl, and she was running out of hours until it was time. She wished she had woken up earlier. She wished she knew what words to say and what to do. She wished so much but it did little good. She had to push through, because it was happening tonight. She would try her best to not leave this unresolved.

"Hey." Eric waved to her from his porch. "Come inside."

"Hmm?" She neared his nevertheless. "Why?"

"Because it's cold, and you're pregnant, and I have hot apple cider."

She chuckled. "Those are all good reasons to come inside."

"I know. Come." He showed her to the living room. "Help yourself to another blanket. I have about ten to myself, but I'm willing to share. You're warming for two."

She sat on the couch. "Where's Aaron?"

"Loading the truck." He said it as though he had a sour taste in his mouth. "For the hospital run, you know?"

"Oh, he's going with them?"

"No. No, he's staying back, taking up extra shifts and all that good stuff." He turned to face her in the doorway to the kitchen. "I just...am worried he'll decide to go. I know it needs to be done, and I'm sure they'll come back, but...I just want some time with him. It feels like it's been so long since we've just been with each other, you know?"

She nodded. "I can understand."

He smirked at her like he knew something she didn't, but he said nothing, only headed into the kitchen to pour her a cup of cider. He returned and sat across from her, studying her for a moment. He smiled and ducked his head. "Sorry to stare."

"It's okay, but...why are you?"

"The pregnancy. I know you're not that far along, but...you've changed so much." He lowered his cup and cradled it between his cold hands. "Physically and I bet mentally too."

"It's a part of the package," was all she said.

"Daryl leads the run come morning," he arched a brow, eyes in the honey liquid, though he saw her shift. "We'll lose contact with that group for days, weeks even. He'll probably miss your next appointment. He'll be so bummed."

"Probably." She muttered it, hoping he took the hint and stopped talking about it, and she brought her cup up to her lips to drink.

"Rick will try and fill in. It won't be the same. You and Daryl... Well, what you have Rick can't sit in for."

"What we have." Carol lowered the cup before taking a drink. "What do we have?"

"I just meant your relationship isn't... There's no room for substitutes. Rick's heart is in the right place, but...it's Daryl you want, right?" He saw her begin to protest, a fiery and rapid correction of a response ready to zip out, so he quickly amended. "He'll be the father once the baby's here, and he's already in that head space. Uncle Rick just makes it weird."

She scrubbed the pad of her thumb across the top of her mug and set her jaw. "Eric, if there's something you want to say, just say it. Don't play games with me."

"Daryl's been good to us, to my...to Aaron, and I'm grateful. I'm sure he's kept him alive more times than Aaron will ever tell me. He'll make a great father to the baby, and the space Tobin left will be filled. We'll make sure the baby knows about him when the time is right. He or she should know about their natural father, but...you and Daryl will be his or her mom and dad. You'll be parents, and that relationship will either strain or strengthen what you already have. I just want you to know you have my support and my friendship, if you want it. I'm here for you and for the baby, with Daryl here and when he leaves."

"He mean so much to you that this baby means that much?"

"Tobin was a good friend too." A somber smile. "I want his child and you to feel safe, and I'm told I'm not threatening, so...my door's always open. As is my collection of teas and cider." He grinned at her kindly. "Now drink. It'll warm you up."

She felt her lips form a small smile, and she once more brought the cup to her lips, the warm liquid slipping through and sliding down her raw throat. She closed her eyes and felt it glide through her, bringing warmth to her icy insides. She inhaled the aroma and for a moment, she was drawn back to a time with her and her baby girl. An apple orchard, laughter, the warm fall sun. It felt more like a dream than an actual memory. One good day out of hundreds of dark ones.

Opening her eyes as Aaron came in, greeted her so softly to her ears that she didn't hear it, she was sure it was simply a dream. A life she could've had. She watched Eric smile widely at the man he loved, a kiss placed to his lips as Aaron headed back out with some spare rope he had left behind, and she drank once more. That light feeling, that happy, happy vision of the auburn-haired young girl with bubbling laughter had gone, and a bitter taste had settled in the back of her throat.

"So, have you made any plans on what to do with the baby?" Eric pulled her back to reality, his eyes bright and elated from the affectionate kiss he'd just received. "Is there enough room in your house for it to have its own room?"

Carol was jolted by the sudden change in topic, and she shrugged a shoulder, unable to reply as she hadn't thought on that. Her thoughts were...scattered, lost in other places.

"I'm sure there will be, with Michonne and Rick now bunking up. If you need help moving or decorating, let me know. I don't have much, not paint or anything, but I have a lot of time on my hands. I can help you with whatever you decide to do with the room, or with yours." He leaned forward. "I have an old sewing machine the original owners had that you can use to make maternity clothes, if we can't find any."

"I hadn't even thought about that." She peeked at him, somewhat embarrassed as he'd put a lot more thought into her pregnancy and child than she had. "Maternity clothes."

"Like I said, I have a lot of time on my hands, and your baby's big news around here." He smiled softly in an attempt to sooth her embarrassment. "I just want to help since my skills aren't needed around here, and Aaron now has Daryl to take scouting with him."

She caught a hint of disdain in the second sentence. "You're not happy with that decision?"

"Not in the way that you might think." He shifted. "I want to be there with him, to look over him and protect him, and...to be there if the worst should occur. I worry less now. Daryl's a good hunter, a tracker, and he trusts his gut. It tends to lead him toward...a safer path. I trust Daryl with Aaron, and vice versa. It'd just... I'd feel better about it if I was there to stop anything bad from happening to him."

She nodded. "I know what you mean, but he'll be fine. Aaron's tough, and he's good at talking people down. He...proved that when he walked right up to us in that barn." As an afterthought she added, "And Daryl wouldn't let anything happen to him."

"I know. He's a good man, and he'll be a good dad." He set his cup down and dropped his hands to his thighs. "I have a question."

She prepared herself. "Ask."

"Are you going to wait until the baby's born or find out its sex whenever you can? I hate calling the baby "it"."

"Oh." She drew her lips inward and released them with a low smack. "I don't know. I—I was going to leave it to Tobin, but...that's not an option anymore." He nodded. "I think...I'll just wait and see. If Harlan asks, I'll...uh, I'll see if I want to know then."

"Do you care what you have?"

She shook her head. "Not really."

"Just happy and healthy, which we're all going to make sure the last is true." He covered up with a blanket. "You and Daryl will have to take care of the first."

"Daryl's good with babies," she pointed out. "He's taken great care of Judith, and I know he'll do well with this baby. He's stepped up, and when he does...he doesn't do it half-heartedly. He's dedicated to this child, and I know he or she will be happy. They'll be proud to have him as a father."

"They will be."

Carol drank from her cup as he began to talk more on the baby and maternity clothes, and she was surprised to find herself enjoying the subject. When he first had brought it up, she wanted to avoid it. She didn't want to think on the life her body was creating, but somehow Eric had made it a pleasant conversation.

––

"We need to make a spot for the puppy." Maggie searched through previously unopened closets in their home. "Maybe build a doggy door for her."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" He bent down to search through the blankets on the floor.

"A walker couldn't fit through it, Glenn." She chuckled at him. "And it's not for a while now. She's still too weak, too new, to even lift her head."

"No, but a baby could." He peered up at her, and she gazed curiously down at him. "When we have a baby, it'll be able to squeeze through, and trust me, it'll try."

"Then we'll just have to be careful." She lowered herself down beside him and smiled. "We'll figure it out. You're quite crafty."

He chuckled. "Just when I'm trying to avoid things."

"Trust me, you'll be tryin' to dodge dirty diapers and cryin' fits left and right." She moved aside a set of sheets.

"I won't." He caught her eye, and she set the sheets in her lap. "I'll be there."

She reached over and caressed his cheek. "I know you will be."

"Hey." Enid bolted over to them, moving under Maggie's arm to get into the closet, and they both moved back to give her room. "It is."

"What is?" Glenn glanced at his wife, amusement sparkling in those inky depths.

"This." She pulled out a black case. "It's a guitar."

"Open it." Maggie sat back as Enid tugged on the zipper, revealing a shiny black and white acoustic guitar. "It's beautiful."

"And well kept." Glenn ran his eyes over it. "I wonder who it belongs to."

"Us now." Enid pulled it carefully out of the cloth case and began adjusting it.

"Wait, wait." Maggie shook her head. "You can play?"

"Yeah, my mom taught me when I was ten." She looked from Maggie to Glenn. "You don't know everything about me."

"Clearly." Glenn watched her pluck at the strings then tuned it again. "Do you know any songs?"

"Yeah, a few." She stopped tuning and held the neck in her hand, a veil of sorrow falling over formerly excited features, and they noticed it instantly. "I—I haven't played since before..."

"Enid." Maggie moved hair back from her ear and over her shoulder. "It'll be fine."

She swallowed. "I don't...know that." Tears glossed her eyes. "What if...all I can remember is them? Before? That's worse than their deaths, Maggie. It's all we had, and none of my future involves either of them."

"Hey," Glenn tenderly affirmed, "it might not involve them, but it involves us. We're a family, Enid, and your pain is ours. If you don't want to play or see this again, I'll burn it. But...if you want to try later to remember the good, to honor what your mom taught you, we'll listen to anything you play, even if it stinks."

"Sometimes rememberin' the good...even if it hurt...is worth it." Maggie smoothed down her hair. "It's up to you, sweetie."

Her lips parted, but nothing fell through. She set the guitar down and scurried away, going to her bedroom. Glenn exchanged a look with his wife then collected the guitar and hopped to his feet after her, assuring Maggie with a vague gesture to get back to work on making room for the puppy. She reluctantly did so, watching him until he disappeared inside Enid's bedroom once she'd let him in.

"Look, Enid, it's just a guitar. I know it seems like so much, because of how you learned to play, but it's just...wood and wire and metal." He held it loosely in his hand. "I don't want to push it off on you. It's up to you what you do with it, but...if you can find strength in the memory of your mom teaching you...then keep it. If you think it'll weaken you or—or bring back too many memories that'll only drag you down then we'll get rid of it."

Her eyes moved from his to the guitar and then to rest on the floor, lips still parted as if she had something to say yet nothing came out. She shook her head, a tear falling free.

"Okay. Good choice." He went over to her window to throw it out.

"Wait." She jolted toward him, clasping his sleeve, and his hand was halted in midair. "Wait."

He looked down at her. "You sure?"

She didn't think, simply nodded. "Yeah, I'm sure."

"Good choice." He smiled at her, freeing his arm to embrace her, and she smiled a little.

"You supported both," she said against his chest, moving back to analyze him.

"It wasn't my choice," he replied, "it was yours. I'll support you, good choice or not. Personally, I think keeping it was a good idea. I kind of always wanted to learn how to play, but I never had the time or the teacher. Would you mind?"

"Teach you?"

"Yeah. We have some time on our hands these days."

"Okay, but...we might have to learn together, and it might be a while before I...can pick it up."

"Fine with me. I have plans for a couple weeks, so just let me know, all right?"

"All right."

"Thank you." He set it on the end of her bed.

"No," Enid corrected him, "thank you."

He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and gave her a squeeze. "You're welcome."

Maggie held a blanket for the puppy to her chest, leaning against the wall outside Enid's bedroom, smiling at the conversation they'd had, and she pushed off the wall, proud of her husband. She was always proud of Glenn, but this was the first time she was proud of him, not as a leader or her husband or a man, but as a father.

– – –

Rick and the others had gone over to Maggie and Glenn's to spend time with the newest member of the group. Rick was still grouchy about having a newborn puppy in the group, but the kids were so taken with her, even Judith. Michonne was melting away his prickly approach to the pup, and he couldn't ignore how cute she was. She hardly moved, and she mostly stayed in Enid's arms, but she was cute. He knew she'd only get cuter and then it was over. She was stuck with them. They wouldn't be stuck with her, no. She was stuck with them, because she'd be too cute, and they'd love her too much to let her go.

Carol had made a simple dinner, and Daryl had joined her. She was stunned to see him so clean and well-dressed. He wore a long-sleeved navy shirt, his hair combed but still moderately messy, and he smelled like soap, not leather and earth. She couldn't believe he'd cleaned up. For her. She'd been asking him too for weeks when they first moved in, and...there he was now, clean and handsome, for her.

"Here, let me give you a hand." He hopped up to carry the dish to the table, the tease of skin and muscle his slightly rolled up sleeve revealed was more enticing than all of it being revealed, and she inhaled to steel herself. "Looks good. Smells good."

"Thanks." She carried the plates over. "Uh, Daryl, look—"

"Sorry," he interrupted politely, "I know you want to talk, but could we eat first? Or durin'? It's been a long day, preparin' for tomorrow, and we didn't take many breaks. I got real busy with Rosita. She just signed on yesterday, and I had to catch her up. Tara got caught up with medicine last night, and today with Denise."

"Oh, that's fine."

So they sat in silence and ate. Daryl was trying to be polite and not make a mess, but he had missed lunch, busy with his tasks for tomorrow's big run, and he was starving. The last time he scarfed down food, Aaron and Eric laughed at him. He didn't want to do that tonight. He wanted to be presentable. He wanted to be mannerly. He wanted to show her a side of himself that she didn't already know, and he wanted to surprise her before he left. He wanted to tell her, so...he knew she would certainly be surprised. No doubt about that.

Carol watched Daryl go for seconds, her fork dancing over the cucumber on her plate, and she was staring, brows furrowed. She couldn't think of how to start this conversation. It wasn't a rejection, but it wasn't a confession. She didn't know what it was, and that made this...challenging. She didn't know how to do this. She supposed she never really would.

They washed the dishes together, Carol washing as Daryl dried, and she handed him the last plate, nearly dropping it as she did. The last plate meant their conversation would begin, and she wasn't ready for it.

"You all right?" He dried the plate and placed it in the cabinet with the others.

She stared out the window, drying her hands, and she stated very matter-of-fact, "I was awake."

He blinked and turned to her, bewilderment crossing those baby blues then recognition began to dawn on him. Color left his face, he stumbled back and away from her, and only then did she chance looking at him. He was leaning against the corner of the room, a hand in his hair, eyes wide as he shook his head. He looked like he was trying desperately to confirm or deny some...thing.

"I know how you feel about me. I—I couldn't sleep, so I pretended to...make you happy. You were so worried about me. I'm sorry. I just...didn't want to add to your plate." She stepped toward him. "The baby has already put enough stress on you and everyone, and I couldn't..."

"You were awake." He lifted his gaze to hers, and she bobbed her head yes. "You—you were awake?!"

"You can keep saying it. It'll still be true." She spoke in a whisper, as if to keep him from raising his voice any further.

"Fuck." He dragged a hand through his hair, rubbing the back of his neck. "Fuck."

"Are you angry?" She wasn't entirely sure what emotion he was hinging on. "Daryl?"

"No!" He pushed off the wall and towards her. "No, I—I ain't mad."

"You have a funny way of showing it."

"Yeah, in my shoes, you would be a little..." He scoffed. "Why didn't you tell me? I—I spent days worryin' about...you findin' out, and you already knew."

"How long have you known?" She instead inquired. "Since the prison? Since we were on the road?"

He groaned. "I dunno."

"You don't know? Daryl, how can you not? Being... Loving me as a friend, and...loving me the way you do aren't the same."

"I don't know that! I mean, I didn't!" he shot back. "It's not like I've ever felt this way before, Carol. I—I just figured out what it was a while back."

"When?"

"That night when you slept alone, when I bunked on the couch. It dawned on me then."

"You've known for that long?"

"Has it really been that long?" He met her eyes and sighed. "I—You're my best friend, and I didn't want to ruin that. I want you in my life, and I wanna be there for the baby. I want to...but I want you too, and it's confusin'. It's real confusin'."

"How is it?"

"Because," there was a sharp whine in his tone that caught her attention. "Because you deserve so much better..."

"Better?" She prodded. "Better than what? You?"

"Maybe," he muttered, shrinking back a bit away from her again. "I don't know."

"That was a quick maybe." She neared him. "Daryl, you're not the terrible person you think you are."

"I'm not someone you could love either."

"I do love you," she retorted.

"But not how I love you."

She couldn't reply, he scoffed, and she closed her eyes briefly before trying again. "I don't know how I feel. Everything is everywhere, and I don't know what I feel, okay? Knowing you...are in love with me is huge, Daryl, and I don't know where to even begin to process how I feel about you and your feelings toward me. Everything is spinning off, and it's too much."

"I can't make it simple for you," he reminded her. "I can't...not know where you're at anymore."

"Can you give me some time?"

"Of course." He locked eyes with her. "I don't want to rush you. I want your genuine feelings, so please...just think it over."

"What if I don't find an answer? Will you wait until I do?"

"I'll wait," he answered, "but eventually...I'm gonna give up. It's...just how it'll go."

"You'd give up?"

"It's different than tryin' to find Sophia, or knowin' you. I wouldn't give up on her, or give up the knowledge I have of exactly who you are, but...this is new to me. Rejection's gonna hurt, and I don't know what I'll do if you wind up feelin' the same, but time's only gonna make me feel worse. I already feel..." He heaved a sigh and stood beside her by the island, arms folded as if to protect himself from whatever came out of her mouth next. "I don't want to, but I don't know what'll happen, to be honest. I might not. I mean, it's you. I think I could wait as long as it takes. Hell, maybe even forever." He whispered that last line to himself.

She jolted at that, the tender love in his eyes, the fervent whisper in his words, and she had to look away. She had no words to reply to what he'd just said, and he could see that. Her heart raced in her ears as he stared at her for a good minute then walked out of the room towards his own, and she closed her eyes. The conversation wasn't over. In fact, it was only just beginning.

– – –

Rays of golden light streamed in through the slightly closed blinds, her small fingers twitching as she inhaled deeply, rousing from a fitful sleep. Her vision was blurry upon her eyelids parting, and she moaned, blinking to try and adjust her vision, and she pushed herself up, swallowing a yawn.

"Hey." It was a gentle sound, a whisper by the door.

She looked over at him and inhaled, turning her eyes back to the window. "Is it today?"

"Yeah." He nodded and remained in the doorway. "We're headin' out soon. I'd give it a minute or two."

She exhaled without a sound.

"It'll be a while," he continued, "so we ain't gonna come back tomorrow or the next day, so you don't gotta keep an eye out."

"Daryl..."

"I'll bring somethin' back," he reassured her, "for the kid. We can...talk some more then. I'd like to."

She couldn't speak through the lump in her throat, but her grasp on the sheets tightened. She couldn't look at him, as he was a figure bathed in light, features hidden by shadows. She didn't want to think of him that way, if he didn't come back. She didn't want this to be the last image. Her mind would show it to her over and over instead of the laughing man on the bus who'd just given her a message, the kind man who had carried her back to shelter, the relentless searcher who tried to find her daughter. The messy hunter who wouldn't take a shower if his life depended on it yet had time to mock her... That was who she wanted to remember. Good or bad, that was the Daryl she always wanted in her heart.

"Be safe."

Nine lives, remember? She pressed her lips together tightly, tears prickling up in her eyes, and she broke her rule. She turned to look at him, but he had already gone. She shuddered and released the blanket to clasp her hand over her mouth.

It was hours before she made it out of her bed that day, weighed down by her emotions and her growing misery. She drew in a long breath, the bowl of soup empty on the nightstand, the cup of tea sat drained beside it, and she pushed herself up. It was silent in the house, and she knew everyone was busy with their jobs. There was no one she could really talk to, but she couldn't stay in bed. She just couldn't sit in here and stare blankly at the wall. It was driving her more insane than she already felt she was. She had answers to find, emotions to piece together, and all she was accomplishing right now within these four walls was riding on the brink of madness.

She sucked in cool afternoon air and ambled through Alexandria. She found herself standing a few feet away from him, arms crossed over her chest, the wind blowing at her blouse and hair, the sun warming her just a tad, and she opened her mouth to speak.

"You've been standing there for ten minutes." He closed the position and turned to face her. "What is it?"

"I'm not sure what to say," she confessed, "it keeps happening to be lately."

"Is that so?" He drew closer to her. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

She inhaled and swallowed. "I think."

"You think?" His brows met. "You're not sure?"

She lowered her arms. "There's no one else."

"That's here right now, you mean."

"Yeah, and maybe...maybe it's not all bullshit."

Morgan smiled and nodded. "I like that sound of that."

"Maybe," she pointedly repeated.

He closed the space between them, staff in hand, and he motioned towards a nearby porch where they could talk. "I'll take a maybe."


	26. Legos And What If

"Do you want to go inside?" He noticed her shudder once more, and she shook her head. "You sure?"

"It's not so cold today. I'm just..." She rolled her eyes at herself. "I'm fine."

"So..." he ran his eyes over her, "you said it might not all be bullshit? What made you decide that?"

She inhaled and pulled her legs in to rests her arms on her. "I've saved...a lot of lives, but I've lost so many precious ones too. I couldn't do anything, just watch it unfold before my eyes, and there always is a balance. I save one life, I lose a life." She'd saved everyone at the CDC to lose Sophia on the road. She saved Mika and Lizzie and Judith in the woods to lose Mika to Lizzie and Lizzie... Then she talked Daryl out of leaving Noah to die only to lose Beth.

He nodded her on.

"But I saved Judith from drowning, and nothing's...nobody's gone." She found her hand caressing her stomach. "Unless I lost the baby, which I know I haven't."

"So, that's why you think it's not bullshit all of a sudden? Because no one died?"

"No, that's only part of it." She swallowed. "It's complicated, and there's nobody else here who could understand. You seem eager to try so...here I am."

He nodded once more and stood up. "Okay then. I'll see you tomorrow, bright and early, at the empty house."

"What?" She squinted up at him. "Why not now?"

"Because I have some things to do today." He smiled at her. "I...I'll have to take a different approach with you."

"What do you mean?"

"You'll find out tomorrow."

She sighed and watched him walk off with some pep in his step, and she rose herself to get inside. She was cold, and she couldn't stand it anymore. She just wanted to curl up in bed and not move. She was sick her of her own bed, however. She felt like she was fusing to it. There weren't any empty rooms right now, at least not one that she could sleep in.

"Hey, Carol." Enid jogged over to her, offering a smile as a greeting as the hey was more to get her attention, and she strolled inside the house after her. "I need a favor."

"What kind of favor?" She stopped just inside to peer at the teenager.

"It's for the puppy. Could you knit, like, a little pillow? I know she'll get bigger, but she's really tiny right now. I just—I want her to be comfortable in the little nest we built for her, and we already stuffed it with a pillow and a blanket, and I don't want to drown her in more material. But a little pillow about her size would be perfect. The one we found at the shop is huge. She's like a speck on it, so I was just hoping..."

"I have some extra yarn."

"You finished the blanket?" She had seen her working on it, they all had, and she was curious to see what shape it was in now that it was completed. "Can I see it?"

"Uh, no. I mean, no, it's not done. I—It's almost done, and Daryl brought me enough yarn to make twenty blankets. I have some time today. I just...need a nap."

"We'll take it whenever you finish. There's no rush."

"Okay."

"Thanks."

"Hey, how are you? Maggie and Glenn left for the run. Are you all alone over there?"

"No. I'm staying with Olivia again for now. I—It's weird to be home alone now. I'm used to Maggie and Glenn being there, or coming in and out. Besides I'm still leaning, Denise left me a lot of work, and it's easier for me. It's quiet, I mean, save for puppy sounds." She shrugged her shoulder. "Carl keeps me company too. He keeps trying to name the puppy. I won't let him."

"Why not?"

"Because Maggie saved her, and Maggie should name her. I—we talked about names, but she had to leave early the next morning, so...I'm gonna wait till she's back." She then pointed to her stomach. "Have you thought of names? If you haven't, don't ask Carl. He'll suggest something terrible."

She chuckled. "He named Judith."

"I guess it was his one good name." She smiled goodbye. "I have class, which I was on my way to, but I had to ask about the pillow. Thank you so much, and I'll make it up to you!"

"You don't...have to," Carol finished to herself as the young girl flew out of the house towards the clinic. Denise must be strict about when her classes start. She'd never seen Enid move that fast before. Granted she spent little time with the teenager. Wait, Denise went on the run. She and Maggie were in charge of meds. So, who was giving Enid her lesson? And how had Carol so quickly forgotten that? Geez, pregnancy brain was moving in rapidly.

She cast her gaze to the stairs and her lip curled upward in disgust at the thought of stewing in her bedroom while making the pillow for the nameless pup. She lowered them and remembered Daryl. His bedroom was empty, and fairly neat. She'd have to carry the supplies down, but she'd be out of her bedroom and in a semi-new environment. And she doubted he'd mind.

– – –

Rick found Michonne and Sasha with a two other members of construction working on a fence to surround the pond. They were just scratching out a blueprint, and the real work would begin tomorrow, but it warmed his heart. He was caught up in multiple shifts, and he couldn't lend a hand right now, but knowing they were on the job...reassured him that nobody would be getting in that pond.

He was on his way back to the wall. He'd stopped to kiss Judith goodnight since he had the late shift, and he'd ensured Carol had gotten some fresh air and a hot meal. She had cooked for them, and he was surprised. She'd been acting strangely the entire morning, barely left her room, but she had some spunk now. He supposed it was the pregnancy. He hardly remember how Lori was in a normal environment, but he suspected it would have been like this.

He called to Michonne, and she met him halfway. "Carl's watchin' Judy with Enid."

She nodded. "I saw them out earlier, but I lost track of where when my shift came."

"Yeah, he'll be home later. He's attached to that puppy."

Michonne smirked knowingly. "The puppy isn't the only thing he's attached to."

Rick tilted his head. "What do you know?"

She laughed. "All I'm saying is you might want to sit him down and talk to him. He's not a little boy anymore, and I just want you and him both to be prepared."

"An old friend...told me to have that talk with Carl when Lori was pregnant." He rubbed his jaw. "I never got around to it. Uh, there were more important talks to have with him."

"I think now's the time. They're smart, but still just teenagers. They'll be stupid. Impulsive. Reckless. Hell, even we have our moments like that." She reached out and clasped his hand. "Just talk to him."

"I will. Tomorrow. I have the wall tonight."

"Okay." She was going to hold him to it. "How's Carol? She didn't see them off."

"Yeah, I know. She kept to herself most of the morning, but she seems...jolly now."

"Jolly?" She arched a teasing brow. "Who is she? Mrs. Clause?"

"Well, she isn't exactly happy, but she has some pep to her step. She seems to be...energetic."

"I'll talk to her. I don't know how much I'll get out of her, but I'll talk to her." She squeezed his hand. "Daryl said if he misses her appointment, he wants you there with her."

"He didn't tell me that."

"Were you going to miss it?"

"Not a chance in hell."

"That's why he didn't tell you. So, if he misses it, you take her to Hilltop. We're too few right now to for more us to go with you. I think you'll be fine. It's not a quick trip, but to get her there and back, you'll be fine."

He smirked. "You think?"

You'll be in a car with a pregnant woman who's pulling into herself, so it'll be awkward, but you'll survive was what she wanted to say, but she didn't. He either already knew, or he didn't see it. Either way, she wasn't up for a conversation where she dissected Carol's mental state. "Yeah, I think." She chuckled at his expression and kissed him. "Go to the wall. I have to finish up here."

"I'll see you at home." He placed a loving kiss to her forehead.

"Talk to your son," she added once more before she rejoined the group.

"Yeah, yeah." He continued onward towards the wall to relieve Gabriel, and on his way he spotted Morgan. He nearly stopped to see what he was doing, but at the sound of a blade scratching against wood, he decided against it. He'd let Morgan do whatever the hell he was doing. Gabriel needed to get home and sleep. He had the afternoon shift. He seemed fond of that particular shift, and Rick suspected it was because Rosita and Spencer weren't on the wall or making patrols those days. He had hoped they cleared up their issues. It was affecting more than just them now, too, and it was starting to feel like more and more like a high school. He did not want to remember those days.

Michonne and Sasha parted always once they'd finish the blueprint, Michonne invited her over for dinner, but she passed. Abraham and Eugene had gone on the hospital run with Daryl, so her place was practically empty. Michonne wasn't sure why Sasha hadn't gone. Rosita had went, Tara and Denise, Francine, and a handful of other people. Even Maggie and Glenn. They had their teams and jobs, and they could have found one for her. Perhaps she wanted to stick around for a bit. Michonne doubted she'd get the answer if she asked her outright. She'd figure it out sooner or later, especially as they were building this fence together.

Michonne closed the door to the house, the scent of dinner still in the air, and she called to Carol to see if she was still awake. She didn't mind eating alone, but if she could have company, she'd take it. Maybe Carol didn't want to be alone right now either. It was cold and murky tonight, so a little companionship had to be welcome.

"Carol?" She checked her room but found it untouched. "Huh. Carol?" She walked through the rooms both upstairs and down, finding the woman asleep in someone else's bed. She smiled at her, coiled up in the middle of Daryl's bed, face nearly buried in a pillow, yarn lying all around her. She chucked under her breath and carefully collected the balls, placing them in the basket. She grabbed a blanket from the chair in the corner of the room and covered Carol with it. She tiptoed out of the room and closed the door, strolling to the kitchen to help herself to dinner.

"What are you smiling about?" Carl stood in the doorway with a sleeping Judith in his arms.

Michonne shook her head innocently. "It's nothing."

"Lair." He crossed over to her. "What is it? Did I miss something?"

"No. It's really nothing." She gestured to her plate. "Did you eat?"

"Yeah, Olivia made us food." He adjusted Judith. "I'm going to put her to bed then you can tell me what happened."

––

Carol woke to her body's internal alarm clock and changed to meet Morgan at the empty houses across town. She was confused at the men's clothing in her closet then recalled yesterdays events and stumbled up to her room to change. She washed her face and headed back downstairs, shuffling across town. The sun had yet to rise, but it would soon. Until then an icy air cloaked Alexandria, and it chilled her to the bone. She couldn't dive into the house soon enough, and she moaned blissfully at the warm that enveloped her.

"You're early."

"I can take a nap on the couch until it's time." She smirked, though it held little humor.

"No, it's fine. I expected as much." He stepped out from behind the counter. "Did you eat?"

"No."

"Well, let's take care of that first." He pulled out a plate of fruit and eggs. "I have a few more things to prepare, so why don't you sit here and eat?"

She inhaled softly. "You made me breakfast?"

"I made myself some too. I just had a lot leftover."

She walked over to him and accepted the plate. "Thank you."

He nodded and watched her sit at the table in the back of the room then went to the living room to ensure everything was in place. He could hear the fork hitting the plate as he bent down to adjust the rug, and he wondered why she hadn't eaten breakfast before she left the house. He'd seen and heard how she didn't sleep well, so maybe that affected her. She was too tired to remember to grab food. He hoped that wasn't a habit, given in her condition. She needed more food than the rest of them anyway, and Daryl wasn't here to remind her. He wasn't going to try and take the man's place—that wasn't possible—but maybe until they returned he could be there for her in a similar way. She had come to him for help, after all, so perhaps there was something he could build. Friendship. A mutual respect. He wasn't entirely sure, but it would be something.

He called to her once he was finished, and she joined him a moment later, leaving the plate in the sink. He straightened up and handed her a staff. It wasn't like his. It was unshaped, thick, the layer of dark bark shaved off, leaving the lighter tone underneath revealed.

"What's this?" She was hesitant.

"Lesson one." He reached over, pausing until she nodded confirmation that it was okay for him to touch her, and he placed her hand on the staff. "We'll take it slow."

She narrowed her eyes at him, but he walked around her. "Take what slow exactly?"

"Just hold onto the staff." He stood behind her, his back to hers, and he held his own staff. "Take a deep breath."

She decided to not argue and do as he said. She did, after all, go to him. She drew in air to capacity and released it.

"Okay."

They repeated that five times, Carol wasn't sure what the goal here was, and Morgan made her repeat the last one three times. She didn't know why, perhaps her inner skeptic was showing itself in her breathes. She wouldn't be so surprised. This was ridiculous. She wasn't here to learn how to sigh. She just held onto to the belief that this had a deeper meaning. She might be wrong, but she had to have a little faith. Right.

"Close your eyes," he now instructed.

She sucked in another breath and closed her eyes, still holding the staff in her palms.

"Clear your mind."

"Okay."

He chuckled. "Clear your mind."

"I did."

"No, you didn't. I can wear the gears still turnin'." He didn't look at her or make any moves to in the next few minutes. "Just...clear your mind of all thoughts."

"I told you I already did."

"You're arguin' with me—your head's not clear."

She squeezed her eyes shut even more and tried to ignore him while silencing her mind. She had never been able to do it since the prison. Well, after the prison, there were always memories there, haunting her. They always crept up on her when she least expected it, and they were there now. She couldn't escape them, and Morgan refused to believe she had hushed them. She would just have to try. She couldn't seem to entirely fool him, and the reason for doing this wasn't to fool him. It was to try. She told Daryl she was trying all those months ago in that dark little room with the bunk beds, and she couldn't do it alone anymore.

Alone was a lie, a cover, a story. But this? She wanted right now to be genuine. She wanted this to be the first step to finding herself again through the heavy walls and unexpected storms. She wanted to work through it all and find some shred of peace. She wanted to be able to look at her child and see the future, not his demise. She wanted so much for her child, for herself, and she had to take the first step now. Delaying it would only make things harder. She had to do this. She only had some odd months before the baby was here, and she only had...what? A week? Two? Until Daryl came back, and she needed to give him an answer. Maybe, one day, not right now, I'm not ready—those weren't answers. They were excuses. Yes, no, I'm sorry I don't feel the same, I do, but let's take it slow—those were. She just had to figure out which one applied to her. That was another reason why she was here.

"Find a spot in your mind where it's quiet," Morgan commanded in a low, nonthreatening tone. "Where you can just sit and enjoy the silence. Nothing will hurt you. It's calm and peaceful. Clear your mind and focus on that place."

She steadied her breathing and tried to claw her way to a place where it was quiet, peaceful, but no such place existed among the chaos and the memories and the emotions. Her brow furrowed as she could hear the events of the grove crossing through her brain, followed by the image of Mika's dead body then Lizzie's.

Karen. She jolted and the staff fell to the floor, her body crumbling beside it, and she was panting. She felt an arm on her back, and she had to open her eyes. She could see him beside her from the corner of her eye, but she didn't say anything. She couldn't.

"It's all right." He patted her back carefully. "I had the same problem. There's a lot of noise. We'll—we'll sort through it together, and it won't be so loud."

She shook her head. "I—I can't do this. This was a mistake."

"It's not."

"How do you know?" She glared through the tears in her eyes. "You aren't in my head, Morgan. You can't understand what this feels like!"

"Maybe not, but you have to go through it. That's the only way we're go—"

"Go through it?" she growled. "I've been going through it since it happened! You don't know—You can't even imagine!"

"Then tell me what happened so I can."

She shook her head again and dug her nails into the rug. "I can't."

"Yes, you can."

"No."

He sat down. "You can. I know you can, just stop tryin' to keep it buried. Trust me."

"I don't even know you, and what I do know of you doesn't make me trust me." She moved away from him. "I haven't forgotten what happened with the wolf, what you did to me..."

"I was tryin' to save someone's life, and that's what I'm tryin' to do now. You came to me for a reason, and you need to work through this."

"This isn't like you and your son."

"It doesn't have to be. It can be about rage and unbearable torment—I've been through that. I'm still goin' through that. Maybe I can't relate. Maybe I don't have a damn clue what you went through, and I never will, but I'm willin' to try—for you. The least you could do is give me that same effort."

She scoffed under her breath and squeezed her eyes shut, Morgan studied the silver-haired woman for a moment then stood up when she said nothing, and he was tempted to leave. He was reluctant to do just that, because he'd been violent and refused to listen. He'd kept it all inside and snapped. He understood. They had different outlets, different ways of showing their inner war, and he couldn't just walk away. He knew what it was like, knew how being left behind felt, but if she wasn't willing to meet him even two steps then he had to. There was nothing he could do if she didn't try just as much as he was.

He hovered in the doorway to the living room, his eyes glancing at the front door, but he didn't step towards it. He kept his back to her as he had during their session, and he heard another breath pass through her lips. He waited, hoping she'd speak, hoping she'd see this could be a way she could take, hoping she had the strength to overcome. He knew she was strong. The woman could carry the weight of mountains, but now it was crushing her. He wanted only to lift her burdens, but he wasn't going to get anywhere unless she opened up.

A minute had passed. Two. Then three, and silence filled the house. It was his turn to sigh, but instead all he did was turn and look back at her. She was still on the floor, sitting with her hands balled into fists on her thighs, her head bowed, and he watched tears slid down towards the rug. He frowned and he lowered himself down beside her.

"It's like poison," he imparted. "You keep it all bottled up, and it will kill you. Maybe not now, maybe not tomorrow, but sooner or later it'll drown you. You need to let it out."

She inhaled so sharply it felt like the air had stabbed the back of her throat, and she tightened her grip on her pants. She was a mess, and there was no end to it. The door had been opened—she'd willingly opened it—and there was no closing it.

"I'm here when you're ready. If you're not, that's fine too."

"I killed a little girl," she spoke through clenched teeth, tears bunching up on the tip of her nose, on her chin, dripping down onto her shirt and the floor. She was shaking, like when Aaron had pulled her out of the pond. She couldn't control the quaking that coursed through her. "Lizzie. She was eleven years old."

He gulped, not having expected that. "Why?"

"Because she killed her little sister." She was speaking clearly, not a stammer in her words, despite the emotional, quivering mess she had become. Perhaps the words needed to come out. Perhaps her voice needed her to say it in a way that was to heal, not impart knowledge. "She would have killed Judith and me and Tyreese if she had the chance. We had no choice." Her voice began to break now.

"No choice?"

"If I left with Judith or if Tyreese left with Judith, we would have gotten killed. If we sent Lizzie off on her own..." She shuddered. "She would have been killed or worse. We had no choice. I—I had no choice."

"So you killed her?"

"And Karen and David. I was trying to stop their suffering and end a deathly virus." She lifted her hands to bury her face in them. She could remember everyone she killed, even the ones whose names she didn't know. They were burned in the back of her mind. They haunted her like ghosts, and she had no way of escaping them.

Morgan let Carol cry herself into exhaustion, moving her onto the couch when she'd began to drift off on the rug where she'd coiled herself into a ball, and he studied her from across the room. Her eyes were swollen and red, tears staining her pale cheeks, and her lips were scarlet from pressing together when he had his back turned, trying desperately to keep it all inside. She was one hell of a woman, he decided, and this would be one hell of a task. Restoring an inner balance to turmoil like this would take time, and he'd devote all of his time to helping her through this if he could give her a moment of peace. He hoped for more, but he'd take what he could get.

He covered her with a blanket from the back of the couch and departed from the room to let her rest. She would need it.

––

Michonne glanced at Sasha as she set the last post in the ground. They had enough wood to make it wrap around the entire pond, and she sighed. She knew this was just as important as the run, but she had wished she could have gone as their plan had in large part involved her. Until the last second that was.

Rosita joined up last minute, and she was fine with. Rosita was a quick study, and she needed an outlet. She had a temper, and taking out walkers should help with the bottled up anger she had. She knew Rosita would keep her head and fit into their team well. She wasn't in the head space of a team player right now. She was dedicated to the mission, to providing a future, only she didn't mind carving that path out with blood. Michonne wasn't too worried. Rosita had heart. She would listen to it over any emotion and keep her team safe, keep the group safe. She couldn't stand to lose anybody either.

As for the emotions...well, Michonne didn't leave a blank space when she removed herself from the run. She knew that would really chap Rosita's hide—rather he would—but it was too late for regrets. Michonne had her place here, and they had theirs there. She only wished she could be a fly on the wall, to warn them of any danger and fight the good fight to ensure they all survived. It wasn't as easy as that. They would likely lose someone. With a high risk mission like this causalities were expected, but how many was still a question. She felt if she were there, she would lower that number to its smallest possibility. It might wishful thinking, but runs hadn't gone well in a while.

"After this, I bet construction has us chop down some trees to fill in their holes." Sasha squinted over at Michonne, the water catching the bright rays of the Autumn sun, and she studied the other woman. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm just..."

"Thinking about the run," Sasha finished with a nod. "They'll be fine. They have a good team, and they've thought it through. Sure, it'll probably go to hell, but they know what they're dealing with. They'll get it done."

"I know, and we'll get this done." She smirked at her. "Or we can do it like the old world and wait about ten years then make progress."

She laughed, a puff of white smoke following the noise despite it being relatively warm today. "Ten years? Hell, we might as well leave it to Judy and Carol's kid at that point."

"They'll have the energy for it. They'll just lack the skill."

"Are you sure? I've seen Judy with those Legos. She's pretty good."

"No."

"Fine, fine." She held her hands up in a gesture of peace. "Don't tell Carol I volunteered her kid for manual labor."

"I won't, though if he or she gets anything from Tobin, I hope it's that."

"Tsk, yeah." She crossed her arms. "He was a good guy, don't get me wrong, but he was spoiled by this world. We can't afford to let this town do the same to us, or to Judy and that baby. Knowing when to relax and being soft are too very different things. We need to make sure they know that."

"That's a bit heavy for children, don't you think?"

"It's either a bit heavy or a lotta dead." She shrugged a shoulder. "You saw what happened at the prison. We...we lost almost everyone, and those kids? Mika, Lizzie, Molly, Reed... We lost Patrick to the flu. The flu, and I don't want that to happen again, not to Judith or Carol's kid or any kids Glenn and Maggie will have. The world breaks us all down, and being sheltered...isn't going to save anybody. We know how sheltered people and kids react to this world."

"Sasha—"

"I lost my brother. I don't know what happened to him out there on the road, but my big brother couldn't... He just couldn't, and I won't let that happen again. Carol's stronger. She sees more clearly, but how long until she doesn't?" She swallowed. "I've been down that road myself, and...the way back is so much harder. I'm still taking steps, and I want those kids to have a childhood, but it won't be like mine or yours or Carl's. It'll just be their childhood, and I truly hope they live beyond that."

"They will. We'll all be here to see it. Carol will protect her child. Daryl will protect that child. You, me, Rick, Glenn—all of us. We don't—We can't teach a kid how to kill. Eventually yes, they'll have to learn, but until then we'll do that. We'll be their blades and their guns. It's what we already know and do. I understand your worry—it's mine too—but we can't train them to be killers the moment they can hold a knife."

"I wasn't suggesting that. I just can't..." She dropped her head. "I was on guard when Judy fell into the water. I...saw her after, cuddled up between Daryl and Carol, and it dawned on me how easily that day could have ended in a funeral. I can't get that out of my head."

"I know, but she's all right. We're building this to keep her and any other little ones safe. The rest...the lessons and knives will come later, but until later is here they deserve a childhood, even if it's nothing like ours. It'll be theirs."

Sasha heaved a sigh, the hot breath once more visible, and she nodded, turning her gaze to the pile of wood planks. "You know, in a way...they're luckier. They won't know what the old world was like. They won't miss it. They won't wonder what...the hell life would be like if this hadn't happened."

Michonne walked over to her and set a hand on her shoulder. "It did happen, and we're together. All of us. Your struggles, no matter how personal they are, are ours too. You can talk to me, Sasha. You know that."

She inhaled and nodded. "But let's just finish this gate for now."

"Okay."

"Also," Sasha walked over towards the workbench, "I meant what I said: Judy's really good with those Legos."

Michonne chuckled. "We'll have to teach her when she's older."

"We? You mean you and Abraham. I'm a sniper. That's what I do."

"We can squeeze in some lessons when she's a teenager."

She nodded. "All right, but I'm holding you to that. If you and Rick don't make it that long, I'm still doing it."

She smirked. "I'll be there beside you during the lesson." She nudged her. "You can count on that."

"Good." She snuffled and reached out to help Michonne with a plank.

– – –

Sucking in air, Carol woke to a dimly lit living room, and she found herself covered and comfortable on the couch, though her face felt sticky. She rubbed a hand under her eye, and she exhaled. She had bawled. Her eyes were dry from the amount of tears she'd wept. She could recall what happened before the flood of tears, and she sighed. She didn't want to go there, not today, not with him. She had, and it was over, but damn it.

"I made some tea."

She looked up to find Morgan in the doorway, a mug of tea in his hands, and she pushed herself up, setting her feet on the floor. "I'm fine."

"I added some honey. It's good. Have a cup." He lifted his cup to gesture to the one he'd left on the table beside her. "It'll help your throat."

She didn't it in her to argue so she picked up the cup and drank from it. It wasn't scorching, but it was hot enough to steam. The scent of mint flooded her nose, the rich taste of honey glided down her throat with a bit of something unpleasant, and she nearly spit it out. She knew he wouldn't put anything in it that could hurt the baby, and if he tried, he would definitely be killed or banished, but she couldn't place the taste. And she couldn't swallow it.

"I dropped a different bag into your tea by accident," he explained when she hadn't swallowed and began to look a bit green. "It's what I'm drinking."

She choked it down and set the cup back on the table. "Okay."

He sat in the chair close by her. "It's evenin' now. I made you somethin' to eat."

"You didn't have to."

"I wanted to." He met her eyes. "I don't know if you'll like it, but it's all I could find in the kitchen."

"It smells all right." She could smell tomato, but it was more like a sauce than raw or fried. She suspected it was spaghetti, and that sounded good. If only they had cheese. That'd make it perfect.

"You already know what it is, don't you?"

"Yeah." She cleared her throat and crossed her legs underneath her. "About what I told you—"

"It won't go outside these walls," he interrupted her in a gentle tone.

She nodded and set her hands in her lap. "Thanks."

He set his mug down. "I just have one question."

"You want to know why I'm here." She rolled her lips inward and released them with a sigh when he bobbed his head yes in confirmation. "Well, Daryl...told me he loves me. Is in love with me, not...as friends or family."

He smiled, and she knew he'd figured that out the moment she'd approached him. "That's great news."

"Is it?" She wasn't sure.

"Yeah, it's the best kind of news." He studied her. "What did you tell him?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure. It's a haze, and all I could think about was losing him if I don't answer. Hell, I still could even if I do, and I don't want to. I couldn't lose him..." She whispered the last line to herself.

"You couldn't lose him?"

"But I don't know that that means I'm in love with him," she sharply added, annoyed he'd heard her.

"Well, I can tell you what I know of love."

"And that's what, Cupid?" She glared, not wanting to be lectured, not by him of all people.

"Love is the best thing in this world. It heals all wounds, especially the ones we don't know we have. It's a gift to have, even more so in this world. It's unconditional. It's...what keeps our heads above water. It's what gets us out of bed in the morning. It's what makes you walk and get fresh air and eat, no matter how the storm inside you diminishes your appetite and wants to keep you in bed." He searched her eyes. "Your unconditional love for your child has already...softened you—in a good way. It's...lettin' you do what you need."

"It's not my love for my child that's in question here, Morgan. I already know how I feel about my baby." She stood up, hand over her stomach. "It's about Daryl. That's who we're talking about. My best friend."

"All right." He caught up to her in the kitchen. "There's some garlic bread in the oven. It's...interestin'."

"How'd you make bread?" She stared at him. "I couldn't even find the ingredients."

"I'm crafty." He turned the topic back to Daryl. "So, he's your best friend."

"Yes, he...hasn't always been, but it feels like he has." She pulled down a bowl. "He's stood by me when nobody else has. He's had my back. He's...the only person in this entire town that I can't seem to...run from."

"But you did."

"And look how far I got." She met his eyes. "And that's not what I meant. He's the only person I trust with everything."

He stopped her there. "Let me lay it out for you in your own words and from what I know."

"Okay." She helped herself to the food while he spoke.

"You love him. It's obvious. You've said it. Everyone's seen it." He set his hand on the counter. "He's your best friend, and nothing is hidden long from him. You're planning on raising this baby with him, and I suspect you always had, even before Tobin passed, and you can't lose him."

She licked sauce off her finger to avoid speaking.

"So, the way I see it is you have three choices."

"Three?" Her brows knitted together.

"You want things to stay the same. You want to continue being friends and raise this child together as only friends. It'll be hard, because he'll have to try to move on from what he feels from you. He might not be able to, and it'll strain your relationship to the point of ending it, which is your second choice.

"You can drop him altogether. You don't have to answer. You don't have to think about it. Rick and Michonne will be there to help you with the baby. Glenn too. I think he's the godfather, so you'd have help, and your child would grow up without Daryl directly involved in its life. He'll just be a shadow over their shoulder to keep them out of harm's way the best he can without running into you."

She frowned. "No, no. I don't want that at all."

"Then there's the third choice. You take this time while he's out to decide what he really means to you, if you can live without him—which you've stated several times you couldn't—and if you're willing and ready to take this next step—"

"It's not about being ready or willing. I might not love him the way he loves me. He deserves someone who loves him fiercely, unconditionally. He deserves that, not—not someone just settled. He's a good man, and he deserves to be happy. He's earned it a million times over, and if someone comes into his life and is right for him, is truly in love with him, is...is..." She huffed, worked up and unable to finish it, but it wasn't because she was worked up.

"What if this someone comes along? Say, he meets them while out on the run today. Or tomorrow. They save his life, and they get close," he pressed. "Let's say, he brings this person back home, and he begins to love this person more than he loves you. You grow apart as they grow closer. They get together, are blissfully happy and maybe marry like Glenn and Maggie. Maybe they have a child of their own. Maybe...Daryl let's Glenn step up as godfather to raise his own—"

"Stop!" She had her eyes shut tightly, imagining a woman with darkened out features taking up his time and taking him from her in every way she could, and her stomach was a macrame of knots. She thought she might get sick at the thought of Daryl marrying someone, and she couldn't bear the thought of him not being there for her—for their—child. She couldn't. She wouldn't.

"You can be that person," Morgan continued. "It doesn't have to be someone else."

She didn't dare open her eyes.

"Or you can let him go, and he'll take that first step towards someone he might not love as much as he loves you, or someone he may love more. It's up to you."

She heard him leave, and her eyes fluttered open, her heart being crushed at the idea of Daryl being with someone else, loving someone else. She gagged on the thought of him opening up parts of himself and his past that he never shared with her. It was selfish, but she wanted to be the closest person to him. She loved him so much. She wanted to protect him, and there were parts of himself that people could know but never relate to. That bond was theirs.

She gripped the counter. Couldn't she let him go if the right woman came along? If this woman was true? If she loved him wholeheartedly and didn't want to change a single thing about him, save for the negative thoughts lurking in his mind that years of abuse sewn in there? If she looked at him like he was the stars and the night sky? Could she truly be happy and watch someone else stand by him through every hardship, through the good times and the bad as she had? Was there anybody in the entire world that she felt could treat him right and deserved him?

Her heart was racing, and she knew she was asking all the wrong questions. Stupid questions. She knew the answer to every inquiry her brain had and was proceeding to ask. There was no one in this entire world she would ever view as good enough for Daryl, not even herself. Perhaps particularly not herself. She was damaged, and while it might not be beyond repair, it was enough that she didn't feel worthy of being with anybody.

She drew in a breath. Tobin was an escape plan, plain and simple. He could have been a good boyfriend, but she didn't notice. She was drowning, and he was no lifeline. He was just...a temporary escape, but all too soon she was back in those dark waters, and there was nothing for miles.

That was until she discovered she was pregnant then there was Daryl. Sure, he was livid and ditched out, but then he was there. His arms, his love, his support, even his tears. He was there, and the dark waves weren't. They were...at bay when he was around, and it was the three of them at an appointment; the third was never Harlan, it was the baby. Their baby, their family, and there was nothing else for miles.

Perhaps the meaning in her words I can't lose you too and I know you really meant I'm always with you and I love you more than you can know. A smile crossed her lips. More than I could know.


	27. Progress And Apologies

–

She inhaled deeply, eyes closed, feet planted on the soft rug, hands outstretched in front of her. She concentrated on her breathing, the empty ringing of the house echoing in her mind, keeping it from being truly blank. Honestly, even if it were empty, it'd only be part of it. She could sense the grove spilling out of its cage, and she knew it'd cloak her entire brain, ensuring nothing else could come through.

"Easy."

At the feel of hands on her stomach, she thrust her hands down and threw his hands off, stumbling back. She stared at him with furrowed borrows, panting through her nose, shuddering. Her lips parted, and she set a hand over her stomach. Almost protectively over her baby.

"I'm sorry."

"No, no that was my fault." He held his hands out in a gesture of peace. "I should have asked before I touched you. I'm sorry."

She hung her head. "I don't think this is helping."

"It is. You were still for half an hour this time." He smiled with pride at her. "It's not consuming you."

Her fingers tightened on her stomach at his wording.

"Not as much as it was, anyway." He put his hands on his hips. "I think that's enough for today. It's been a good week, and I hope to see you back tomorrow."

"I can't. Rick asked me to watch Judith." She collected her sewing bag, adjusting her shirt. "But I'll be back the day after."

He smiled. "I'll have a surprise for you."

She narrowed her eyes. "What kind of surprise?"

"A good one." He collected his staff. "Why don't you get home? I'll see you day after tomorrow."

She sensed he had more to say, so she crossed her arms over her chest and studied him. "What is it?"

"I just..." He sighed and met her eyes. "I'm sorry about that night too."

She didn't have to ask which night. "Oh?"

"I shouldn't have...done that. I lost control, and I'm sorry." He lowered his eyes. "That's why I want to make it up to you with this. You should have a...clean slate with this baby."

She nearly smiled. "A clean slate, huh?" She stepped forward. "I don't think this will clear it all up, but you're right—it is helping me."

He nodded.

"And don't worry about that night. I—I tried to kill you. I wanted to. We both overstepped the line." She averted her eyes. "Just forget about it. It's better for your sake anyway. If even a breath of this reached Daryl..."

"You wouldn't have to kill me," he finished.

No, I wouldn't. Daryl would have his head before the day was over. She gripped the strap to her bag. "I have to go."

"Could I ask you just one thing more?"

"Why not?" She turned to face him, hand on the doorknob.

"Have you thought about what I said last week?"

She inhaled. "That's private."

"So, you have."

She pulled the door open and walked out without answering, because it was personal. She didn't want to talk about it with him, or with anybody. It was confusing enough. She had come to terms with her feelings, but there were so many questions. She felt them bubbling up in her chest every morning and hissing in her ear every night when she curled up in a bed that wasn't hers. She knew nobody minded, and she knew Daryl wouldn't mind. It was a comfortable bed, closer than hers, and it was a change of scenery, only it was the bedroom of the man she was in love with.

Loving him and being in love with him were hard to separate. She had never been in love before. Maybe puppy love when she was a teenager, but nothing like this. Nothing real, nothing as deep and as potent. It felt like nothing she'd ever experienced before. It wasn't enough to calm the dark waves in her mind, but sometimes when she thought about him or what it was like to be around him, they didn't drown her. She didn't know what to make it of. She felt foolish. At her age... God, it was ludicrous. She felt absolutely foolish and bubbly, and she missed him. She missed him like she missed the silence of sanity and like the light feathers of laughter she used to know.

She couldn't wait for that gate to open and for him to be standing there. She wouldn't know when he'd be back, or if he'd be okay. He might be wounded. He might be dying. She hope it was neither, but with this type of run it was wishful thinking. He would get hurt. A lot of them likely would, and it wasn't due to inexperience or impulse. It was due to the relentless force of walkers. They came and came in waves, never getting winded, never giving up. She knew it was a possibility that Daryl might get bitten. Like Jim had, like T-dog had, like Tyreese had. There was always a chance for a scratch or a bite. It made her innards churn, but she had to face facts. There was no running from death.

She inhaled deeply and rubbed her arms, trying to scrub the feeling wrapping around her off. She had to drop the pillow off for the puppy at Enid's, watch Judith for a bit while Rick helped Michonne and Sasha finish the fence since their help was overwhelmed in construction—the plans Abe had left for them were kind of worthless without him there to translate them—and she had to finish the blanket. It was nearly there, and if she slept with it anymore, she'd have to claim it as her own. She drifted off every now and then, curled up with it. If the baby ever calmed at her scent, just wrap it up in that blanket.

"Enid?" Carol entered Olivia's house after knocking. "Anybody home?"

"One second!" Enid called back.

Carol dug the multicolored pillow out of her bag as the young girl and Carl came downstairs with the puppy, Carl kept trying to take her, but Enid wouldn't let him. She hugged her closer and hurried over to Carol with a grin on her face. Carol arched a brow at them being here together and alone, but she said nothing. She wasn't their mother. Maggie and Michonne could figure that out. "Having fun?"

"No." Carl met her eyes. "She won't let me take the puppy. She has the wall tonight. She'll freeze!"

"No, she won't. I'll wrap her up in my hoodie, and I have a blanket." She rolled her eyes. "We'll be good."

"Sure, when the newborn puppy stops moving, don't say I didn't warn you."

"Shut up." She elbowed his chest and turned to Carol. "Sorry, we're being rude. What's up?"

"I brought you this." She held the pillow out to her. "I meant to bring it by yesterday, but...I forgot."

"Awesome." She accepted it and held it in her other arm. "Thank you so much. It's perfect."

"You're welcome."

"Here." Enid handed the pillow and puppy to Carl and hugged Carol as a second thank you. "Thank you."

Carl smiled at them, hugging the puppy closer. "We'll make you something in return."

"You don't have to." She released the young girl. "I have to get going, but why don't you two feed her? She's looking hungry."

"All right." Enid placed her hands on her hip. "Bye. Thank you." She turned to him when Carol was gone. "What can we make her?"

"You said Maggie wanted to make her a pie, so let's make her that pie. It's been how long now?" She shrugged. "Exactly, and it keeps me from having to go home just yet. I still have a lot to do."

"Like what?" She folded her arms over her chest and drew closer to him. "Hmm?"

"Convince you to let me name this puppy, for one." He smirked and headed towards the kitchen. "And for two, bake a pie. I'm not a good cook, probably got that from my mom, but I've learned some things from Carol." A fond yet bitter smile crossed his lips. "And an old friend I used to have. She could cook some too."

Enid averted her eyes and tucked hair behind her ear, forcing a smile while studying the floor. A sinking feeling rested in her gut as she thought on that. An old friend. All of her friends were either dead, or weren't friends. She rarely let anybody get close. "You miss her?"

"I miss a lot of people."

Her smile became sorrow-filled. "Me too."

He reached out and tucked hair behind her other ear, she lifted her head, and he smiled somewhat at her. She tried to muster up the energy to return the smile, but he shook his head. He knew how much it hurt to think back on, and he didn't want to see another forced smile. He'd given so many in his short years, and he didn't want her to do it, not right now, not with him. They could be sincere with each other. He wanted her to know that, and when no smile came but a light in her eyes did, he knew she knew.

"So, where did Maggie put those ingredients?" He stepped into the kitchen.

"There's still in the baskets. After the mud, they kind of forgot." She picked it up from the corner of the counter. "I don't know if we can make a pie with this."

"But we can try. I mean, if worst comes to worst, I know someone who can help us." He set the puppy down in the little bed Maggie and Enid had made for her. "But let's just try it ourselves."

"You just said you couldn't cook. You're liable to burn to the house down." She thrust her hand outward towards the stove where he was preheating it. "Maggie will kill us if we burn the house down."

He turned to peer over his shoulder at her. "But...?"

She smiled at the adorable playfulness in his eye. "But okay. Just scoot over. I know how to use a fire extinguisher." She walked over to him and moved her hair back, looking over the ingredients they had. It might be fun to bake Carol a pie. As long as it was eatable and wouldn't hurt the baby, of course. She might have to taste test it. If she hurt the baby or even upset its little forming stomach, forget Maggie killing them. Daryl and Maggie would kill them, somehow bring them back and kill them again. She didn't want to know their wrath, so she'd make sure it was safe and good. If not, maybe...birds would like it.

– – –

Save for the sound of breathing, it was empty, quiet and tranquil. She could feel and hear the air rising in her lungs and escaping through her lips as her lungs deflated upon exhaling, her feet planted on soft carpet, toes motionless on its shaggy surface. Her eyes were closed, though the golden light of the lamps was still visible, but it was soft glow. It wasn't the burning light she'd struggled through the first week. It was simply there, softly, beautifully. A warm reminder that if she needed to open her eyes, there would be light there.

On the first day, that light was cruel. She would open her eyes and see the sun beaming down on Mika's pale, bloody splattered face, her eyes forever closed, her lips forever shut. The blood from the wounds still fresh on her faded shirt, her hands lying beside her body, likely dropping there when the energy to fight had passed, when she began to lose her grip on reality, on life. Death closing in, its infection spreading through her tiny body to turn into one of those monsters out there. To turn her into what Sophia had become. Carol had ensured she wouldn't draw in another breath again—though that breath would truly only be a ravenous growl.

The light had been cruel the second and third day as well. She remembered the light on the flowers, the new face of the little flaxen haired child before her, crying and apologizing for the wrong crime. Little legs stomping away, arms crossed as her small shoulders trembled, head bowed in shame for having pulled her gun on her adoptive mother. Not one tear she for the cold-blooded murder of her baby sister. Hands balled into fists. Just look at the flowers. Count with me. One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two... She could still hear the bullet leaving the gun, how Lizzie's body fell to the ground, as lifeless as her sister's. Two young lives gone—one to prove a point, one for protection, mercy, her own good. Had the world not been what it was, Lizzie might have been fine.

However the world was what it was, and Lizzie was dead. Mika was dead. Sophia and Beth and Molly and Patrick and all of the children she used to read to and teach were gone. Sam. Ron. The list was far too long, and her chest ached. She couldn't bring them back. They had to be in a better place. A place with no pain, no loss, no sorrow. She wasn't sure if such a place existed, but she hoped for those who died believing there was, and for the ones who didn't, well, she just hoped they found the peace nobody would find here on Earth.

She exhaled and pushed on from that thought. The fourth and fifth days were cluttered with morning sickness and the inability to adjust to anything. They were written off as days off, and so they redid them. It was about a week and a half into Daryl's run, and they hadn't heard back from them. They hadn't heard any cars pull up to the gates, not even a whisper of a truck humming in the distance. It had been quiet, except for a batch of walkers that showed up last night, pounding on the gates, but Enid and Sasha took care of them. All was still within the walls of their home.

Today's session had taken four hours. She didn't know that much time had passed until she looked outside and saw the afternoon sun pounding down onto the cold pavement. She curled up on the couch with a blanket and sat in silence for another hour, and Morgan departed without saying much. They had gotten to the point of not needing to excuse themselves. She didn't need to know why he was leaving, and she didn't just storm out. It was all for a reason.

She tugged the blanket tighter around her on the way back home, finding the couch too inviting to pass up. She pulled her legs up and wrapped herself up to be snug and warm. The house was cozy enough, but winter was coming, and it wasn't being kind. She could hardly stand to be outside for long unless the sun was out. Cold air didn't agree with any of them, not even the kids, though they had classes to attend and a puppy to awe over.

She heard movement, shuddering and laughter, and her eyes found Rick and Michonne stumbling through the hall, shivering. She knew Michonne and Sasha had just finished in the gate on the fence. Maybe Rick lent them a hand, and they were finished with it entirely now. It would explain why Michonne was back so soon. She normally stayed out until the sun had set, until there was no light left to aid her in building the fence. Carol admired her for her efforts. It would make watching Judy and her child easier in the warm seasons.

"I think it's time for the winter coats." Michonne faced Rick, reaching up to place cold palms on icy cheeks, and he nodded, a noticeable quiver passing through him. "What? You can handle a horde, but not the cold?"

"I prefer the dry and warm." He chuckled and lowered her hands, massaging her skin through her gloves to warm them. "And you're pretty cold yourself."

"I never said I was a fan of it." He kissed her wrist since her palms were covered, and she laughed, though a fondness blossomed in her eyes. "We have patrol tonight, so let's make sure Judy at least sees us."

"We have been busy, haven't we?"

"We have to be busy. It's what keeps us safe." She searched his eyes. "But we do need to make time for her. Hmm. Why don't we tomorrow? You'll have that appointment with Harlan soon, so we'll need to prepare for that. With you gone, we'll have to find someone to cover the wall. I have to watch Judith, because Carl's covering in construction, and Enid's already covered two shifts on the wall." She heaved a sigh. "And the construction crew is already worn thin, so they just can't. They won't be at their best, be alert."

"Basically they won't be who we need guarding us."

She nodded. "I think I know who can cover, but I'll have to ask her. It might be a no." She might have to take up the wall herself, but at long as Judy had a sitter, she didn't mind.

"Let me know how it pans out."

"Trust me, you'll be the first to know." She laced her fingers through his and turned, spotting Carol on the couch. "Hey, I didn't know you were home."

"I only just got in a little bit ago."

"How are you feeling? Not sick, or anythin'?" Rick inquired. "It's been gettin' colder, and you've been goin' out for hours. I just wanna be sure. I don't want to prod you."

"I'm okay. I'm just...enjoying the quiet." She smiled softly. "Thanks for asking."

He looked perplexed, but he smiled. "That's good."

She turned her gaze out the window and tightened her grip on her legs. "Could I borrow Michonne for a minute?" She peeked at the pair briefly. "It's just...baby talk."

"Oh." He nodded. "Yeah, I can make dinner with Carl."

"We'll join you when it's done." She released his hand and strolled over to her, sitting on the couch with one leg underneath her. She waited until he was gone to meet Carol's eyes and ask what was going on.

"I know you know about Daryl." She kept her voice low, knowing Rick or the others could walk by and overhear. "About how he feels about..."

"You." She nodded, finishing where Carol hadn't. "I noticed the last trip to Hilltop."

"I had only just found out the morning you knocked on my door and spoke to him."

"Wait...you knew only then?"

She nodded. "There were pauses where he wanted to tell me, but I guess the time wasn't right. I can't really say for sure. I just know that...he didn't tell me, and I overheard, but we did talk about it. I told him I'd think about it, try and figure out how I feel about him and his love for me." She was whispering, and she wasn't entirely sure. Perhaps she didn't want to hear these words. Perhaps she was scared of where they might lead her. Love in this world wasn't a kind thing, and not only to her.

"Have you figured that out yet?" It'd been a week and a half since they left on the hospital run, and it wasn't a massive amount of time, but it could have been enough for her to figure out where she was at. Michonne hoped her thoughts didn't end due to fear or lack of searching. She'd seen these two since the prison, and they had always been something special between them that nobody could touch. Tobin couldn't have even hoped to touch it when they were together, and Michonne could only hope it didn't go to waste. What they have, their bond and closeness, was something others could only dream of having. In its raw form, it was what Maggie and Glenn had, what she was discovering between her and Rick, so there was more than just potential there. When you walk into a room and immediately move to that one person, to hold them, to ensure they're all right both mentally and physically and then do all you can to make them better—that's love, she thought to herself. The love Daryl felt for Carol, the love Glenn felt for Maggie, the love she felt for Rick. She knew it could be the love Carol felt for Daryl.

"I have figured it out, though." She dropped her hands to her stomach.

"And?"

"And I do."

She smiled widely. "That's incredible, Carol." She set her hand on her knee and squeezed it. "I'm so happy for you."

Carol couldn't help the smile that crossed her lips, the blush of embarrassment that burned over her cheeks, and she chuckled. "Is it, though?"

"It is. It really is." She searched her eyes. "But how did you come to this conclusion? I'm thrilled you did, but...why are you telling me?"

"Because we don't really talk anymore. I don't really talk anymore." She sighed sadly. "I don't want to be locked up in my room or inside myself. I miss...everything, and I had to tell the person who helped me realize this."

"I helped you? How?"

"You and Rick." She nodded her head towards the hall he'd walked off towards. "You started out antagonistic and slowly became friends then best friends and now you're together. You're happy, and you suit each other well. You make each other stronger. Better. You keep each other grounded. There's an understanding and respect between you two, and it doesn't have to be spoken."

Michonne propped her free foot on the couch as she listened to Carol, and she chuckled. "We really need to find you a hobby."

Carol laughed. "Let me finish."

"Sorry." She held a hand up and fell silent.

"And all of that—save for the together part—is what Daryl and I already have. It hit me when I was watching you and Rick with Judith the other night. It reminded me of the prison. It was during the peace after the Governor had lost the battle there, Beth had just dropped Judith off with me to take a quick nap, and he found us in my room." A fond smile coupled with an adoring glow settled on Carol's face, and widened the smile on Michonne's. "He stood in the doorway, peeking in on us, and I nodded at him. He didn't want to come in without permission."

"Yeah."

"Anyway, we just sat there on blankets, playing with her. He always had a way with Judith, and I thought my thoughts were normal. I didn't...linger on them until a couple days ago."

"Your thoughts?"

"I would have been perfectly content to just...watch the two of them together for the rest of my life." She was so happy that day, and even Daryl cracked a smile. They had laughed and teased little Judy by hiding her toys, which they quickly had to return least a crying fit broke out, and Beth stormed in to see what was wrong. That child could have been in the deepest sleep imaginable and still woke at Judith's cries. She swallowed and pushed on. "Looking back on that day...I think he might have loved me back then. Do you think?"

She didn't say anything—but her grin said about a million things—and she patted Carol's knee and rose to help Rick with dinner, leaving Carol to her thoughts. She supposed at any age love was a confusing and powerful thing. It warmed the heart and soul better than anything. She knew she was right when her eyes fell on Rick and Carl in the kitchen. Rick was trying something Carl had presented him, and Rick gagged and spat it out.

"Well, I'm glad we didn't go with this one." He tossed it out. "Sorry, Dad."

Rick was too busy downing water to answer.

"What's going on?" Michonne spotted Enid. "Kids?"

"We're making something for Carol," Enid replied. "We just don't know how. We're trying, and we have some cookbooks, but it's the end of the world. Nobody exactly wrote a cookbook for the end of days."

"At least not one that we can find," Carl added.

Michonne shook her head. "Why don't you ask Olivia? She's a pretty good cook. She'd be glad to help."

"We want to do it on our own." Enid slipped the notebook in her back pocket. "But we could ask her for advice."

Rick, who had spend this entire conversation downing water, gasped in and said, "You really should have her make the whole...whatever that was."

"That was all Enid." Carl crossed his arms. "I have yet to try my hand at baking, but it's gotta be better than that."

"Sure." She rolled her eyes. "I'm going home. I'll talk to Olivia tonight, and we can try again tomorrow."

"Okay." He turned towards her. "I'm still naming that dog."

"Not on your life." She smiled sweetly and exited the house after saying goodbye to Rick and Michonne.

Rick glanced at Michonne, who sat down at the island to peel carrots, and she arched a brow at him. He didn't say anything, just grabbed a carrot to lend her a hand, and Carl excused himself to take a shower. He did reek of smoke, which nearly made the two check and see if Maggie and Glenn still had a home, but they suspected it was all that was left of their first attempt to bake this...gift.

"If he cooks anythin' like his mother," Rick told Michonne in a low tone, "Daryl's gonna kick my ass."

Michonne snorted a laugh and sighed. "Yes, he will."

"Thanks for the support!" Carl called from the hall.

Rick shook his head while Michonne laughed. "You know he's partially yours now."

She closed her mouth, but kept giggling. "Oh, I know." That was why she was laughing, because of her son.

– – –

Carol stood outside in a heavy coat and beanie, fog surrounding her with the yellow beam of the headlights cutting through them, but not well. She listened to the engine as it rumbled, the car filling with heat, and she waited. She was just inside the walls beside the car Rick had pulled around front to take her to Hilltop in, and she tucked her hands in her pocket, fighting off the cold, her eyes glued to the lack of view outside the gate.

Two weeks. It'd been two weeks since she last saw him or the group they'd taken with them. Her heart ached with worry, and her stomach clenched in fear. She knew there were a million reasons why they were held up, but she knew more than half meant they were in danger. Every second they were outside these walls, they were in some sort of danger. Walkers, people, nature—they were all hazardous to ones health. At least with walkers, you knew their intent. People and nature were unpredictable.

She heaved a sigh, a white puff chasing it, and she shuddered, looking upward as light rippled across the dark sky, and she closed her eyes, feeling the lack of sleep she'd gotten. Typically after her sessions and after helping with Judith or the crops, she could sleep some. Maybe four hours, maybe six, if she was lucky, but lately an energy buzzed underneath her skin. She could feel it even now, and she didn't know what it was. It just...zapped about and woke her up at the ass crack of the morning. The sun wasn't even up, but she did have an appointment, so of course she woke Rick up to be miserable with her. He agreed to whatever time she chose, and she knew now he regretted that decision. She would apologize when she saw him, if he ever came out of the house.

Boots scrapping across gravel caught her attention, her eyes opened and looked towards the direction of their home, but there was nothing. It wasn't Rick. Her heart jumped up to her throat, and she whirled around towards the gate, seeing a shadow nearing from the other side through the fog. She neared the gate at a slow, silence pace, hand on her knife just in case, and she listened for any growls to see if it was a walker or not, but there was no noise.

"Daryl?" She hurried over to the gate, hand curling around the cold metal, and she squinted to make out any features.

"Carol."

She looked over her shoulder to find Rick stumbling over, exhaustion plain on his face, and she exhaled, shifting her body towards him now. She released the gate, but something grabbed her back. She instantly reached for her knife, but the grasp was stronger, and she was going to slam into the gate. She instead used her hand to stop her body from roughly slamming against the freezing metal.

"Carol!" Rick bolted towards her.

She struggled to pull her hand free, and she jerked forward, her shoulder bashing against the gate at the force. She winced in pain, and she saw the face of who had a hold on her. It wasn't a person. It was a walker. She could tell by how it looked that it was new as the skin had yet to decay, and the scent of rot wasn't overpowering. She couldn't reach her knife with trying to keep from hitting the gate, and she couldn't kick her leg through at this angle. She was just stuck.

The moment Rick reached her, the walker's head exploded, she stumbled back against Rick, and they fell to the ground. They grunted as they hit the cold pavement, though Rick had made it so Carol landed on him and not the ground, and she was positive she'd elbowed him in the throat. She apologized as she sat up, and he nodded, still on the ground.

Carol looked over at who shot the walker, finding the man on guard had, and she had to repress an eye roll. He had killed the walker, that was the important part, but for pity's sake. He missed it entirely until it was right against the gate. Was he not paying attention? Or did he not know how to use the rifle? She wasn't sure which question scared her more, to be honest.

"You okay?" Rick rubbed his neck, climbing to his feet.

"I'm all right. Are you?" She accepted his hand and rose, reaching out to move his hand and inspect the area he was rubbing.

"It's fine." Cold fingers on the recently assaulted area was soothing, but scold-worthy. "Why the hell are your hands ice cold?"

"I'm a naturally cold person." She lowered her hands.

He scoffed. "Here." He handed her gloves Michonne had given him. "Wear these."

She accepted them. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me. I'm just tryin' to ensure I don't get an angry redneck in my face." He cut a look at Luis, who was on guard. "You don't know the threats your cold finger will bring me."

She smiled widely when he turned his back. "Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah." He opened the car door for her. "Besides I'm also runnin' for godmother, so I gotta up my game."

"What?" She tugged the gloves on and neared him. "What are you talking about?"

"Tobin picked Glenn, and everyone else is waitin' for you to pick a godmom. I think I have a pretty good shot," he teased to make her laugh, and he smiled when it worked. "C'mon, let's get goin'. It's a long drive."

She sat down in the car and watched him walk around the car, setting her hands in her lap. She ran her eyes over her wrist for any marks, and there weren't any. She set a hand on her stomach and remembered how much it hurt her shoulder to the gate. If her whole body had hit that gate with the force that walker was using... Or if that walker had decided to chomp down on her right then.

She shook her head. It hadn't, and it didn't, and she was on her way to finding out how her baby was. And if anything was going to cloud her mind, it should be how she was going to handle seeing Daryl again. A missed appointment and a realized love certainly drowned out that what ifs of what just occurred.

When Rick was satisfied with Luis's apology and vow to never let it happen again, he opened the gate and checked for more walkers with Luis. He offered some advise, knowing it wasn't his normal morning start. He understood, but if this happened again, it wouldn't matter that he understood. This job was vital, and if Luis couldn't perform then they would have to use Michonne or Sasha, and Sasha just pulled a double shift. She was dead to the world in her bed right now, and he did not want to wake her. She was too tired to be focused, and she needed to rest. Same for Michonne. She had the wall this afternoon and tonight, and him the next day. If Luis couldn't keep focus for a couple hours then...

"It won't happen again." Luis suddenly said, and Rick turned to him. "I—I was bored, and I wasn't paying attention, but it won't happen again. I'm sorry it even happened this once. With Carol, I should have been alert, but I didn't hear anything."

"That's why you gotta watch the road."

"I know. And I will. I swear."

Rick nodded. "Good. Now close the gate once we're gone. If you see any vehicles, make damn sure it's Daryl and the others before you open that gate."

"I will."

Rick walked towards the car and got inside, glancing at Carol. "Do you need anythin' before we leave?"

"Not unless you picked the music."

"I lent my collection to Daryl, to enjoy the drive out to the hospital." He smirked as he pulled out.

"You know it's going to end up on the road, right?"

"It won't."

"How do you know it won't?"

He smirked. "Because it's stuck in the CD player."

She lightly chuckled. "He's going to kill you."

"You might too." He turned on the stereo, and she mentally cringed at the music that streamed out of it, even more so when he began to sing.

––

"It looks all right." Enid studied the pie that'd pulled out of the oven moments ago. "It smells good too."

"We should test it first." Carl picked up a fork. "Here."

"What? You made it, you try it."

"I'm going to think it's great, because I made it. That's why you have to eat it. You're impartial."

She accepted the fork just to spare an argument and dug out a piece bite with both apple and crust. She readied herself for the worst taste ever and ate it, but it wasn't awful. It wasn't mouth-watering delicious, engulf the whole pie now, but it was good. Great even.

"Well, you're not gagging this time." He scrutinized her face. "How it is?"

"It's all right." She set the fork down. "I think Carol will like it."

"Just all right?" He frowned.

"What were you hoping for?" She turned toward him.

"I dunno, just...better than all right." He knocked his knuckles on the counter then reached for the fork Enid had used, trying it for himself. He blinked then sent a slight glare her way, swallowing it. "You liar."

"Difference in opinion." She was laughing.

"I thought it was really blank, but it's not." He stepped forward, shaking his head at her, and she looked up at him, her laughter dying down some. "I worked hard on this."

"I know. It's really good. Carol will like it. It's a good thank you, and we still have enough ingredients for her to make cookies." She placed a cover on the pie and set it aside.

"Kinda sucks though."

"What do you mean?"

"When they get back, you'll be busy with your studies again, and I won't see you that much, and we've made a decent pie this time. I uh, I just like hanging out with you the past couple of weeks. It's...fun." He averted his gaze to the floor.

"It has been."

"Your classes are important, and I'm glad you take them so seriously. You'll be a great doctor—" He was interrupted by a kiss. He was stunned, because he had been working up to that. He had it kind of planned out, and he was going to make the first move, but apparently she had other plans. As always.

She pulled back and smiled at him. "I like hanging out with you too."

He chuckled, a flush crossing his cheeks at the awkward and airy sound. "We should get this pie to Carol before she leaves."

"We should."

He leaned over and kissed her forehead when she picked up the pie, and she peered up at him. He didn't say anything, just let his forehead come to rest on hers, and he saw her cheeks rise, so he knew she was smiling.

"We have a pie to deliver." She reached out and clasped his hand.

He laced his fingers through hers and gave a nod, and they headed out. It was early morning, the fog had began to clear out, and people were waking to start their shifts. They cut through the backyards to his home, climbing the steps and entering to find Olivia watching Judith.

"Hey." She greet them with a grin. "What are you two doing here?"

"Is Carol here?" Enid replied. "We have something for her."

"Carol and Rick left a couple hours ago." Michonne entered from the hall, her eyes falling to Carl and Enid's linked hands. "She couldn't sleep, so they headed out early."

"What?" Enid groaned softly. "We just made this too. It might not be good when it isn't fresh."

"Guys," Michonne smiled at them, "if you make Carol a pie, good or not, she'd still appreciate it."

"Yeah, but we wanted it to be good," Carl grumbled.

"If it's good now, it'll be good when they get back. Why don't you put it up until then? I could a hand with the wall today." Michonne put her hands on her hips. "What do you say, Enid?"

"I can help you." Carl reminded her, "We don't have class today."

"Yes, but you're helping construction today. Remember? You volunteered."

"Oh, right." He glanced at her. "I better head out then."

"I'll put this up." Enid headed to the kitchen with Olivia, thanking her for her aid.

Michonne set an arm around Carl's shoulders and teased not even a second later, "I'll take good care of your girlfriend, don't worry."

He flushed. "She can take care of herself, and she's..."

"She's?" she pressed.

"I'm gonna be late." He was out the door before she could blink.

She snickered and headed out, telling Enid to meet her at the wall. Well, she would have a story to tell Rick when he come back.

– – –

"I'll be right back." Harlan stepped out of office to assist a friend.

Rick sat beside Carol on the gurney, arms folded over his chest, and he looked over the office as Carol lied there in silence. He remembered doing this with Lori, only they would talk and laugh, and she'd say she wished he could feel what she felt sometimes when Carl moved or when he had the hiccups. She always looked so blissful, but of course she had not-so-blissful days. He simply liked to remember the good ones. The best of her.

"I'm sorry."

Carol rolled her head to the side. "You're sorry? For what?"

"Daryl should be here, not me."

"You can't control the length of their run, Rick. It's okay. I don't mind you being here. I'm...glad I'm not alone, I guess."

"I'm glad to be here," he confessed. "I haven't...see anythin' like this...since Carl."

"How did you feel?"

"I was scared, to be honest. I was worried I'd screw it up. I wasn't...ready, but when he was born, and he was here and I held him, I knew that my fear didn't matter. I had to provide. I had to set an example. I had to be a father to him." He rubbed the back of his neck. "It's been...challengin', but it was the best thing I've ever done."

"He still looks more like Lori," Carol admitted.

"Yeah." He chuckled. "He does."

"Except for his eyes."

His hummed and dropped his hands. "She looked just like you," he remarked.

Carol ran her eyes over his face. "You think so?"

"Right down to the freckles."

"Thanks." She reached over for his hand, and he grasped hers affectionately. "Don't get all teary-eyed on, okay?"

He smirked and dryly mused, "I'll try not to."

Harlan joined them and began the checkup, and Rick felt guilty that Daryl wasn't here. He knew he would be here next time, but moments like these were only so few. Each time they came, they would be seeing the baby in a different form, and Daryl would be missing this one. He wouldn't let it go, Rick bet, although Rick suspected Carol would retell it just fine.

"Well, I have news." Harlan announced. "You are now in the second trimester. It further reduces the chance of a miscarriage, and things are going to get pretty exciting."

"How exciting exactly?" Rick asked.

"Well, you'll see a lot of growth, so I'd suggest finding some...comfortable clothes."

"We've got that covered. A friend of ours has made some for her, and she'll wear 'em as soon as she can't fit into her own clothes," Rick assured him, remembering that Eric wanted to know one thing. "Can we find out the sex soon? I mean...not today, but—"

"Hey, Rick, not to seem rude, but could you not hijack my pregnancy?" Carol interrupted him in a gentle tone. "My head is spinning enough, okay?"

"Sorry." He cleared his throat. "What else should...she expect?"

Carol listened to the changes she had gone through only once before, and she tried to imagine it. She knew when she told Daryl, he'd be thrilled. He would look forward to the baby's growth, to feeling it kick and move, and she suspected he would want to read to the baby. She had already seen a small collection of books in his room when she was trying to put away his laundry. She left the area untouched so he wouldn't know she saw. She couldn't wait to tell him about all of this. She hoped he would be waiting at Alexandria, or on his way here now, but that was wishful thinking.

"Do you want to know the sex?" Harlan asked Carol when the checkup had concluded.

"I don't know." She shrugged a shoulder. "It depends on if Daryl wants to. I don't mind either way."

"I'm sure he'll want to know." That was from Rick. "He's a bit impatient."

"Not always," Carol murmured so low neither man heard.

Harlan spoke to Rick a bit more about Carol's eating habits, but Carol had zoned them out, her eyes falling to the copy of the sonogram Harlan had printed off for Daryl, and she dug her nails into the mattress. Or perhaps it wasn't wishful thinking. She didn't know what had happened to delay them, or maybe they were right on time. She couldn't say, but he would be back. Today, tomorrow, next week—it didn't matter, because he would come back. That was one of the many things she loved about him.

"All right, I'll see you back here in a few weeks. You know the routine." He smiled at the pair. "Have a safe trip back."

"Thanks, Harlan." Rick gave a nod and headed out with Carol, who merely smiled her appreciation and farewell. He inhaled the icy air and stated, "I bet it's gonna hit you all at once." Rick stuffed his hands into his pocket as they strolled towards to the car.

"Huh?" She peeled her eyes off the sonogram. "What do you mean?"

"The weight. You'll be tiny until about five months in then it'll just drop."

"I'm not that small."

"You're also not showin' much, but Lori was the same way." He saw the concern about her weight on her face. "Carol, you're healthy. I'm just...thinkin' out loud. And if I thought you weren't gettin' enough food, I'd be outside those walls, huntin' food down for you. With Michonne and Maggie and Carl on my ass."

"Thanks."

"It's just the truth."

"No, for coming with me, for being here. It means a lot."

He smiled. "Of course. I...wanted to be here, and not just for you or Daryl. I have reasons of my own."

She tucked the picture into her pocket carefully and skirted around the car, pausing with her hand on the knob. "Hey, Rick?"

"Yeah?" He was tucking something away in the backseat he'd gotten from Harlan.

"If the spot were open, if Tobin hadn't picked Glenn, I'd have pick you."

He beamed and closed the space between them to hug her. "Thank you." He felt his heart ache at words he'd once spoken to her. "I picked you," was all he said, but she understood. The ache didn't fade, and he knew it'd take time to undo those words. He could never hope to earn her forgiveness, but he would try his best.

"Although Glenn is a close second."

"Do you want me to sing you again?"

"Is that a threat?"

"Not one that I'm worried about the backlash for."

"Well, Glenn is looking like a great first."

He had no retort, but he was pleased to see her joking again. He didn't know what she did for all those hours in the morning, but he was glad to see whatever it was was helping. He hoped it continued to help her. She deserved the chance to heal and to be happy and in love. If all went well on the run, he knew she was would get at least two of those three.


	28. The Road To Hell

Daryl exited the house, the mist of the morning cloaking the ground, and he bowed his head, nearing the group gathered around the cars and the truck. Rosita was leaning against the front of a car, arms folded, avoiding eye contact with anybody, and he knew they were in the same head space. He could only hope that once they were on the road, it wouldn't bother him as much.

Maggie and Glenn stood by the car they were going to be driving with Enid. They had tried to slip out without waking her. There was no need for a dramatic goodbye. They would be back soon, and she wouldn't have to worry, but they were glad she had woken up to see them off. More than glad, they realized as she lightly decked Glenn in the arm and scolded Maggie for trying to leave without saying a word.

"Be good." Maggie embraced her tightly. "Don't forget to study hard."

"I will, and I won't forget." She squeezed her. "I'll be the ideal house guest."

"We know you will be." Glenn moved in for his hug when Maggie released her. "Stay safe, okay? When on patrol and on the wall, be careful for our sake."

"I will be."

He stepped back. "And take care of the puppy. Maybe think of a name for her."

"I have some ideas on them, but I'll let you know when you guys get back." She tucked her hands in her hoodie pocket. "How long until that is? Just an estimate."

"We can't say for sure, but maybe a week at the longest?" Maggie glanced at her husband, and he shrugged. "It just depends how things go."

She nodded. "I'm coming with you guys next time."

"We'll see." Glenn gestured towards Maggie and shook his head, as if saying Maggie wouldn't allow her to go on such a dangerous run, and Maggie rolled her eyes. "What? It's the truth."

"Be quiet, or I'll make you drive the entire way."

"We agreed to take turns."

"That was before you started tellin' Enid I'm an overprotective person."

"You are!"

"I know she can take care of herself," she stated. "I trust her to survive."

"Then you'll go all mama bear on her, and she won't be able to take two steps out of camp. It's adorable, Maggie. It's not an insult." He smiled lovingly at her. "I doubt Enid thinks so."

"In theory it's all right," Enid replied. "But on our next run? I'll hate it."

"Well, I care." She reached out and smoothed downed a section of Enid's hair. "You'll just have to learn to live with it."

"I already am." Enid smiled. "Be careful, you guys. For my sake. I can't... I don't want anything bad to happen to you. Either of you, so be alert and cautious and as safe as you can be."

"We will be."

Tara and Denise walked by the Rhees, checking on the supplies, and Tara confirmed they had everything. Spencer and Abraham were loading up the empty totes from Glenn's last run into the back of the truck. They would use them to transport the medicine they found and any other salvageable items. Francine and and Leo were tucking away the gasoline in the back of their cars, and Rosita and Daryl were being two grouchy logs.

"We're not in the same car as them, right?" Tara turned to her girlfriend. "I mean, they're family, but during a long car ride, I'd rather not be trapped in a small space with two people who look miserable and somewhat pissed."

Denise snickered. "We have Spencer and Francine. Daryl and Rosita are taking the truck."

"Thank God." Though Tara would find time to talk Rosita. She definitely needed it from the look on her face. "I call shotgun."

"How about something better?" Denise offered. "You drive?"

"Not until I nap. I'm so tired right now."

"Fine, but when I wake you up, you're driving. How does that sound?"

"Fair." She kissed her. "All right, let's round up the stragglers. We have to get going. We're wasting daylight."

Everyone loaded into their cars, Maggie and Glenn lingered for a moment with Enid, and Enid opened the gate. She watched them pull out, car after car until the truck was the last to slip out, and she tightened her grip on the gate as she slid it shut, watching them disappear. She felt like part of her heart had been ripped out, following Maggie and Glenn as they went out into the world without her. It hurt more than she thought it would.

"Hey." Sasha, who had been on the wall, rubbed her back underneath her hood, "don't worry. They'll be back before you know it."

She looked up at the older woman and nodded. "I know they'll be back, but...I think it's gonna feel like forever."

She smiled sympathetically at the young girl. "Well, I guess we're going to have to keep you busy then."

She chuckled, a weak imitation of her actual laugh, and she lowered her eyes. "I guess so."

Sasha pulled her close and squeezed her shoulder, being there for her silently now. The wind began to pick up, blowing at them, and Sasha shivered, feeling Enid shudder beside her. She told the girl to get inside where it was warm, and she returned to her position on the wall. She would have a lot to do while they were gone, so she better get this shift over with. They weren't the only one who'd have things to show off upon their return.

– – –

They had driven through two days and almost through two nights, stopping only for bathroom breaks and for meals. It was a pleasant drive for most of them. Glenn and Maggie were curled up in the back of their car when they finished their portion of driving for the day, Tara and Denise were going over the plan, and Rosita and Daryl were embracing the lovely sounds of nature. Not a single word was shared between the pair, not since they climbed inside and made it known they weren't in the chatting mood. They were both grateful.

They stopped for the night. Daryl and Glenn gathered wood for a fire, Maggie and Rosita and Tara set the parameter with rope that held noisy objects, and Abraham volunteered to take watch. Daryl had already appointed himself on guard for the night, but he didn't mind sharing. They had quite a large group, so two on guard couldn't be a negative thing.

Glenn and Maggie lowered the backseats in their car, laying out the blankets to sleep with for the night. Maggie lied down and Glenn brought over some food fresh off the fire, and Maggie smiled at his not-at-all enthusiastic reaction to the meat Francine and Abe had caught.

"It has to be better than the owl." She reached over to try it for herself and her lip curled up. "Hmm."

"Right?"

"Okay." She sat up. "It's funky."

"Really funky." He moved beside her and studied her. "You miss her?"

"Huh?" She met his gaze. "I don't miss her."

"Maggie."

"I don't."

"It's okay to miss her. She's been with us for a while now, and she's part of our family. I kinda miss her. I'm definitely worried about her. Without us, I'm concern she might start roaming again."

She frowned. "Now I'm worried about her."

"She can take care of herself."

"You're the one who put these thoughts into my head," she reminded him. "I wouldn't have gone there if you hadn't said anythin'. You can't undo it with assurances."

"Fine, have me weird meat and try to get some sleep."

"I napped most of the ride. I'm not tired." She did take more of the meat.

He crossed his legs and balanced the plate on the console between the driver and passenger seats. "So, we're doing this." She looked at him. "We've talked about this run, prepared for it, and it's finally here. I'm glad. I want it over, and I want the medicine and any equipment we can salvage, but...my stomach is in knots. Who knows what we'll run into in that hospital, who might be staying there, what...might be lurking there."

She smiled at him, and it was laced with gentle affection. "Whatever we find...we'll be able to handle it. I'm not gettin' cocky; I just know what we're capable of, and we're not alone. Francine will be a great lead, and we both know you already are."

He bowed his head. "Maggie, the last time I lead a team...I lost every one of them."

"You were the only one prepare for the worst. We have Daryl, Rosita, Abe, Eugene, Tara and Denise. The others might get scared, but they won't run. They know how important this is. They volunteered, knowin' the stakes. Give 'em some credit."

"I am, but...it's a hospital, Mag. It's not in a big city. It's not like the one Rick came out of. It's practically in the middle of nowhere, and...and they may not have gotten to it. It could be overflowing with walkers, or even people. They might have settled there."

"We won't know until we're there." She reached over and grasped his hand. "We'll do some recon, and we'll see what we're in for. If it's too much, we won't do it. Daryl and Denise want this so badly, but they're not gonna risk our lives for it."

He shifted and wrapped his arms around her lower back, his head resting on her stomach, and he tossed a blanket over them. "Okay."

She chuckled lightly and weaved her fingers through his hair. "Okay." She placed a kiss to those dark locks and gently lulled him to sleep by stroking his hair. She closed her eyes and hoped Enid found sleep easier.

Outside Francine and Spencer began laying out sleeping bags and blankets. They couldn't all fit into a car, and as Glenn and Maggie had claimed their car, and Tara and Denise the back of the truck and Rosita Francine's car, the rest of them were left sleeping on the ground. Some had taken up in the remaining cars, but the lack of warmth drew them back. Spencer laughed under his breath and fed the fire, and Francine went to scrounge up some more sticks just in case they ran out. Leo went to lend her a hand—and his flashlight.

"And the truck thief shows her face," Spencer mused when Tara came out.

"You're just jealous you didn't think of it first." There wasn't enough room in the back for more than a couple people with the empty totes for medicine and the rope for securing the equipment and such. So it was a two person room and those two people were her and Denise. At least for the duration of the trip to, on the way back they'd be just as uncomfortable on the ground as the rest of them.

"True." He handed her a plate. "If you need any extra blankets, Maggie put them in the front seat of their car."

"We're good, but thanks."

"You don't have to thank me. It's just blankets."

"Learn to take a compliment." She lightly punched his shoulder. "I doubt you get very many."

He sent her a glare. "Then you're welcome."

She smirked and walked off, climbing back inside the semi-warm cocoon she and Denise had made. "I bring ambiguous meat."

"I'm not hungry." She was reviewing the notes they'd taken.

"You have to eat." She set the plate down. "You've had one oat cake today, and I'm pretty sure I saw Rosita finishing it off."

"I'm not hungry," she repeated, still not looking up at her.

"Denise." Her tone was low and brimming with concern, and those light eyes finally met hers. "You have to eat. We have a long drive ahead of us still, but...who knows what we might run into. You need to keep up your strength."

"I'm too nervous to swallow anything."

"Could you just try? Please, for me?"

She lowered the notepad and plucked a handful of meat off the plate, eating it to appease her girlfriend then groaning at the taste. "What is that?"

Tara busted out laughing.

"What did you just feed me?" She glared. "Tara!"

"I dunno what it is, but that was priceless." She fell back onto the blankets, her ribs aching as her chest bubbled up with laughter. "I wish I had a camera."

"You're an ass."

She rolled her head to the side, grinning. "You would have laughed too if you'd seen your face."

"Why don't you eat some?"

"I did. Outside earlier with Francine." She rolled her to be on her side now. "I was going to try and talk to Rosita, but she's stewing in the front seat of the car. If her vibes weren't enough to keep me away, her glare was."

"Well, Abraham and Spencer both are here with us. She's in the same group as Spencer...and Abraham too, technically." She was on inside guard, and Spence and Abe were moving equipment as Abe was filling in Michonne's slot, and Spencer was just physically strong and was tossed in there. It wasn't as vital a job as Glenn's group or Francine's. Rosita would be protecting them from any threats that appeared on their way through the hospital, and Glenn was protecting them all from any threats that showed up on their way outside to the truck. If any noise they made drew walkers, he and his group would have to take them out to keep Daryl's group safe.

"Well, Glenn's group already has six people in it, and we need to work as a team. Right now, Rosita isn't too down with the team vibes, so...it's her own fault. Inside guard can tolerate more solo moves than outside guard."

Denise heaved a sigh. "I hate that you're a part of Glenn's group, and I'm in medicine. I won't even see you until we're done."

"I think it's better that way." She rubbed her thigh. "We'll be able to focus better. You won't have to look after me, or me after you, putting anyone in danger because we love each other."

She smiled and laced her fingers through Tara's. "You're right, but that doesn't mean I like it."

"Then why are you smiling?"

"Because you said we love each other." A blush crossed her cheeks, and Tara ran her eyes over her face. "It's not that I forget, it's just...nice to hear."

"Well, I guess I oughta say it more." She leaned over and kissed her slowly, reaching up to cup her cheek, and when she pulled back, she placed a kiss to her forehead. "I love you."

Denise's smile widened. "I love you too."

"Then eat the ambiguous meat and get some sleep." She took the notepad away. "Turn your brain off."

"That's not possible, but I'll try."

"Good, because I can hear the gears in your head turning, and I can't sleep with all that noise."

"Oh, poor you. How have you survived all this time?"

"I sleep in the guest bedroom."

Denise blinked. "Do you really?"

"Only when you're planning exams."

"That's almost every week." She scrutinized her girlfriend. "Are you joking?"

"No, but you're adorable." She lied back. "I'm exhausted, so hurry up and eat."

"You can turn the light off."

"No, I wanna wait. It's cold. I want to cuddle and suck all the heat out of your body."

Denise chuckled. "Fine, but know it's against my will."

"Sure it is. I just happen to wake up and find you curled up against my back every morning, because you hate cuddling."

She laughed at the wink Tara sent her and finished off her dinner, lying down beside her and flicking the lantern off. "Good night."

She laced her fingers once more through Denise's. "Good night."

––

Rosita watched the group get settled in front of the fire, passing around food and water, and she could smell the food Francine had brought her still sitting in the passenger seat with a bottle of water beside it. She wasn't hungry, and she wasn't sure she could even give the freaky meat away. They would want her to eat, and she had no appetite for food.

With a grunt, she slipped out of the front seat of the car, closing it silently, and she approached the area where everyone was resting. Tara and Denise had chosen the truck to sleep in, Glenn and Maggie had cleared out the back of their car to rest in, and the others were around the fire, save for the two on watch right now. She only needed one person from this group.

"Hey." Francine tried to greet Rosita, but she kept walking. "Or...not." She wasn't sure what she did to piss Rosita off, but she hoped this attitude faded before they got to the hospital. She didn't need that negativity and brashness in her group. She'd have a talk with Rosita about it. If she let her even get out two words.

Rosita found who she was looking for bunking up in the shadows like an idiot, away from the fire and the warmth the group provided, and she grasped the front of his shirt on her way. He yelped at the sudden jerking movement, climbing quickly to his feet, and she dragged him off deeper into the woods, away from the group and into the cold. Stopping only to all but slam him against a tree, where he tripped backwards and nearly fell on his ass.

"Hey!" He caught his balance. "What the hell, Rosita?!"

"Keep your voice down," she hissed.

"Fine." He lowered his tone and pushed off the tree, adjusting the frumpy collar of his shirt. "What are you doing?"

"Just stop talking." She pushed him back against the tree. "It's just better if you don't talk."

"What?"

"Do I really have to spell it out for you?"

"What, here?"

"What's the matter, you scared?"

"No, of course not. It's just...not ideal. It's dark, and there are people right over there, not to mention walkers." He narrowed his eyes at her. "And I thought you hated me. You've spent months avoiding me, and whenever we do speak, you go off on me. Sometimes not even in English, and now—?"

"I never said we were friends, did I?" She searched his eyes then cast her gaze to the side. "If you don't want to, it's fine. I won't force you to do something you don't want to."

He caught her wrist before she could walk off. "I didn't say I didn't want to." He pulled her back. "You just...keep on surprising me, and I can't figure out if I like it or not."

She nearly smiled. "You can stop talking any second now." This time she was actually teasing.

He chuckled and pulled her against him, pushing back hair from her face. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"I'm the one who brought you out there, wasn't I?" She tilted her head back, her hair falling further behind her, and she cupped a hand behind his neck, the other sliding down his shirt, her knuckles brushing against the rough material of his jeans, and she smirked when he shuddered. "What's the matter there, Spence? Cold getting to you?"

He chuckled softly and dropped his forehead down onto hers. "I think you'll be the death of me."

She laughed. "I'll certainly try." She yanked him down by the hand cupped on the back of his neck and crushed his mouth against hers.

––

Daryl sat with his back against the tree, his crossbow resting on his lap, and he scanned the area for movement. His jacket kept him warm, though he envied those curled up by the popping fire and those at home, all toasty and warm in their beds. He longed to be his own bed right now, but he had a job to do, and that could wait. Besides home was complicated right now, and he couldn't focus on that.

Yet that was all he could do. The look on Carol's face when she confronted him, the way she was silent all throughout their meal, how tense her body language was the entire conversation. It played in his mind, and he couldn't fight the lump forming in his throat. Three words and their entire relationship changed in the blink of an eye, and he still wasn't sure if it was good thing.

If the other morning gave any indication, it was absolutely a negative thing. She didn't even look at him. Perhaps she couldn't. Maybe she found the answer that night when she was "sleeping", and she couldn't return his feeling. Yet she couldn't send him off on this run with that knowledge, fearing he might do something stupid and get people killed. Or get himself killed. Maybe that was why she couldn't look at him, why she was clutching her blanket. She knew, and she didn't have the heart to tell him to his face just yet. She would probably wait until he got back and let him down gently. She would say all the right things, and he would love her more for it.

He yanked out a few blades of grass, a stinging sensation searing through the back of his eyes, and he huffed, avoiding eye contact, though nobody could see him.

Or maybe she realized...she still wasn't sure. He didn't know every inch of her mind, certainly not this part, as he didn't even know this part of his own mind. Well, it wasn't so much his mind as his heart. His head screamed at him for falling in love with the worst possible person. Honestly, he had to the biggest fool. He was such a jackass, a numskull, a...a damn pea brain! To fall in love with Carol, he had to be every one of those things and then some!

For the first time his in entire life he had someone. A constant, unwavering someone who would be by his side, who knew when to set a hand on his shoulder to comfort him, who knew when to hand him a weapon when he needed one. Someone who would silently eye him until he confessed everything with a single glance. Someone who understood. He never had to use words with her; she simply knew his mind and his heart, as he knew hers. There were walls between them, yes, but the important stuff—the way he knew she needed to keep what happened to the girls to herself, the way she knew he needed to let himself mourn Beth and Tyreese—was never hidden so deep they couldn't find it. All they had to do was be around each other, and it was all exposed, even the surface of old injuries and scars.

He never had someone like her in his entire life until the goddamn world ended, and he was finally able to collect himself and become more. He wasn't a nothing. He wasn't a nobody. Not when he provided, not when he stood by her side, not when he...not when he did his damn best for everyone, even if...the outcome wasn't what he wanted. He wasn't sure who he was, but Carol did. She set that bar so damn high that he was still jumping to reach it. A man of honor. That was who she saw when those big blue eyes moved his way. Not a redneck asshole, not a criminal, not a drug head, not all the things he tried to make himself out to be, because he didn't know who or what else there was he could be. He tried to fit into the shoes the world threw at him, and he never questioned it until he looked into those eyes and saw her looking at him. She wanted a hero, someone to find her little girl, and she looked to him. Not Rick, not Shane—him.

You're every bit as good as them. Every bit.

Those words left her lips without a moment's pause, words he knew she longed to hear herself. He didn't say anything to her then, but he did later. Nice shootin'. That was the first compliment he gave her. He had so many of them now, and he didn't know where to start. He wanted to shower them on her daily, because not only were they true, but he wanted her to know she had all of these lovely and awesome qualities. He wanted her to know she was more than just a blade or a mom or a good friend. He wanted her to know she was the best person he knew. She was brilliant and beautiful and crafty. She was the woman...who any guy—any guy—would be lucky to have. Even that lug Tobin. He had no clue what he had, and that made him twitch, but he was damn lucky to at least even had gotten close enough to hold her, to smooth back her soft hair, to kiss her...

He scratched a hand through his hair. He wasn't jealous of him anymore, but damn, it did piss him off a little. A hollow anger. He didn't have even a sliver of Carol. The real Carol, the one he loved, the woman he admired. He wanted the whole package—beautifully bruised heart, shadowed mind and all. He wanted to be with her, every inch of her that was authentically her, and he wanted her to want him back just as much. It was probably...wishful thinking, but it was the only thing to warm him on this freezing night. He really should have stayed closer to the fire.

"Hey." Abraham approached Daryl. "I'll take the rear of the camp." With a group this big, they should have two people on guard. It made sense. Now he was just letting him know where he'd be if he needed him, or if he wanted to get some shuteye.

"Yeah." He nodded. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it. I have a feeling I'd be in deep shit with Sasha if I didn't bust my nuts to keep you all safe."

Daryl smirked. "You're a real champ."

He chuckled. "I know."

Daryl scoffed and flicked the blades of grass in his hand off to the side as Abe departed, and he pulled his legs in to keep his body heat from wandering. He rested his arms across his knees, his crossbow beside him on the ground, and he gazed upward towards the night sky. He truly hoped she was sleeping tonight, instead of looking at the same night sky, riddle with insomnia.

Abraham walked through the camp, checking on their group, adding more wood to the fire as Francine shuddered in her sleep, and when it was properly fed, he rose to head back towards his spot to keep guard. However there was a sound in his ear, and he couldn't tell what it was. It wasn't entirely unfamiliar to him, so he investigated when he counted and saw one spot lay abandoned.

If pretty boy went and got himself bit, he bitterly grumbled, hearing the lecture that would await him. He had to keep that kid alive, for Deanna's sake. She was a good woman, and at least some part of her should survive, even this part.

Yet when he located the boy and the sound that caught his attention, he knew instantly he had nothing to worry about. He was a bit surprised to find him on the forest floor, screwing...someone he couldn't see in the darkness, only day into their run. Although he'd done the same thing, but that was different. He and Spencer were vastly different, and honestly...

Wait. He rethought the people curled up by the fire and the limited number of women traveling with them. Francine was out cold in her bag, it certainly wasn't Tara or Denise, and the Rhees were curled up in their car, so that left only one other woman. He glanced over, seeing that caramel skin in the moonlight. He narrowed his eyes when those dark orbs found his and held his gaze for a brief moment before he averted his eyes and walked away.

––

When they were done, Rosita dressed and stayed huddled up by the tree, listening to Spencer dress himself, laughing about how the cold now bothered him. She silently rubbed her arms and rolled her head to the side to gaze at him, and he caught her eye, smiling at her. She shook her head and shot up, he pulled his jacket back on, and she made to walk off.

"Hey, wait." He grasped her wrist.

"Why?" She didn't look at him. "We have an important day ahead of us. We need to get some sleep."

"Rosita—"

"Good night." She pulled herself free and headed back to the car she had crawled out of an hour ago. She stopped short and turned to the truck, tugging it up and climbing inside. Tara and Denise were cuddled up in the back, and she lowered the door slowly to try and mute its rusted wails. She then lied down beside Tara, her back to her, and she rested her head on her arm. It wasn't long before tears rolled down the bridge of her nose and she was snuffly as noiselessly as possible.

She hated this feeling taking up roots in her belly. She hated its green poison, and the power it held over her. She despised it. She was better than this, and she knew it. She was stronger. She was doing things she wasn't even sure why she was doing them, and it was getting her nowhere. She knew it wouldn't. It was just a distraction, but normally it'd do, and she would move on... Yet tonight, despite how good it felt, despite how attentive and compliant Spencer was, she felt hollow. Even worse she felt like trash. Scum. Lower than low. She was disgusted with herself.

And this time there was no avoiding it. It had showed its ugly head tonight, and it wasn't just that Abraham saw. She didn't care that he saw... Did she? She wasn't sure, but she couldn't deny how sweet the sex had become after he stomped off, but after it was over, and she thought about how he looked at them—at her—that sweetness became stale and bitter on her tongue. The green poison once more swept through her system, and she was left with nothing.

She buried her face in her arms, ashamed and frigid and alone. Just like Denise said on the tracks all those months ago. You're alone for probably the first time in your life.

"Hey." Tara sat up. "Rosita...?"

She didn't say anything, but she couldn't suppress the shivers leaving her body nor the whimpers that betrayed her and squeezed through her lips.

"Hey." She set a hand on her shoulder and turned the lantern on to shine light into the truck. "What happened?"

"Hmm..." Denise began to rouse at the light and the noise.

Rosita shook her head and rolled over, flinging herself towards the only people in this entire group she could openly trust. She landed with her head on Tara's lap, her hands digging into Denise's pant leg, and she bawled. Without explanation, but with powerful sobs and with nothing held back.

"It's okay." Tara smoothed out her hair, finding some leaves there, and she flung them off her hands with a slight groan at the unwanted cold. "We're here."

Denise grasped Rosita's hand. "Just let it out. I think you've held it in long enough."

No truer words had were spoken that night, the three of them now wide awake. two comforting a friend, and one mourning. Mourning what exactly? Her relationship? Her petty attempt to get back at Abe for his words and actions? Who could say? Perhaps it was simply mourning the last shred of who she used to be back when Eugene had a cure and Abraham was their leader.

– – –

They spent the next day driving again, stopping a few times to rest and search for supplies and gas in the cars on the road. Daryl and Maggie and Denise went in one group to try and find fresh meat, Glenn, Tara and Eugene skirted off to find water, and Rosita and Francine were left on watch while the others searched the cars.

Rosita swayed back and forth with her rifle, eyes narrow as she kept her guard up, and she heard movement behind her. She knew it was him before she even turned around, so she didn't, but she did still herself, ready for whatever he would have to say to her. If she was lucky, she might...be able to actually talk to him. She couldn't let the green monster win. Not again.

"You enjoy the show?" she started the conversation when he didn't. "I thought that was Eugene's hobby, but maybe you picked up something from him after all."

"I wasn't out there looking for a show," he responded.

"Then why stick around and stare?"

"I didn't mean to. Spencer's bare ass in the moonlight wasn't somethin' I ever wanted to see. I was on watch. I heard a noise, so I went to check it out. Maybe leave a sock behind to give us a heads-up."

"So it's our fault you found us in the woods?" She dared a glance over her shoulder. "Right."

"You should be careful."

"Like you care." She turned to face him. "We're nothing, Abraham, so spare me the advise and fake concern. I'm done with fake people in my life." She stormed off, but not before he spoke again.

"Then why are you knockin' boots with one?"

She scoffed and continued to storm off, finding Francine and Spencer at the opposite end. She cursed and ran a hand through her hair. She couldn't win today, could she? What the hell? She made one mistake and there it was, popping up again, because she just had to try and feed the animals. Too bad there were no animals to feed.

"Rosita." Spencer smiled at her.

She gave a nod. "Abe took over my post. I'm going to join Daryl's group."

"Okay." Francine nodded. "Be careful."

She tossed a yep over her shoulder and hurried after the trail Daryl and the others had left. Francine crossed her arms, and Spencer watched after where Rosita had disappeared in the treeline. She studied him and tried not to chuckle, shaking her head now.

"What?" He didn't look at her, but he did make a point to look at everything else.

"You're an idiot."

"What did I do now?"

"It wasn't just now." She smirked. "I've known you for a while now, Spencer, and you're not hard to figure out."

"Francine—"

"Look, it's your personal business, and it doesn't concern me, but try and keep it to yourself. We have a mission, and you can't go all lover boy every time you see her."

"What? I do not go all "lover boy"."

"Uh-huh."

"I don't."

"You can keep arguing with me, but I don't believe you." She dropped her arms. "You shouldn't let her take advantage of you."

"I'm not."

"Right, you're a big tough guy. You don't have feelings, and you aren't attached to her at all." She peeked at him. "Expect you're none of those things, and you are attached to her. I can see in your big love struck eyes."

"I don't—"

"Why don't you stop trying to deny what I'm saying and actually hear it?" she challenged. "You two aren't even friends. There's no connection beyond sex. You can say it doesn't matter one way or the other, but it does. You're not a heartless guy. A bit of a dumbass and somewhat cowardice, but we can all claim a little of that."

He pursed his lips and folded his arms over his chest.

"I'm just looking out for you. Talk to her about it or don't, it's not my business. I've said my piece, and I'm going back on watch."

He shuffled his feet and muttered, "Thanks."

She nodded. "No problem."

They waited around for half an hour more, Glenn and Eugene and Tara were the first group to return with full jugs and a half soaking wet Eugene. Tara was trying not to laugh, as it was cold, and he'd probably get sick, but she couldn't help it. She wouldn't tell anybody what happened, and neither would Glenn. Francine even pushed for a hint, but they wouldn't reveal anything.

Daryl, Maggie, Rosita and Denise stepped out from the treeline a few moments later with dinner. It was cold enough outside that they didn't have to worry about it spoiling before they cooked it, so dinner it was. They had to get going. It was still a long drive out, and they were all getting a little bored and restless. It wasn't as if this was a fun road trip. For some of them, it might be the end of the line. Hell, for all they knew, it was the road to hell for all of them. They didn't know what to expect, and that put a lot of people on edge, their minds overworking themselves to try and work out a plan for every situation that may or may not arise, and let's just say it left a lot of people in a poor mood.

"We'll stop here for the night. We're a few hours out from the hospital." Daryl looked over map. "We'll take a scoutin' group out there in the morning."

"Who's in the group?" Maggie leaned on the warm hood of the car.

"Glenn, Francine, me and Abe." He met her eyes. "I need you and Tara to keep...people steady. They're gettin' antsy, and y'all are the best people for this job."

She nodded. "Okay."

"I need those of you in the scoutin' group to ready to leave at dawn," Daryl told Francine, Glenn and Abe. "We've been on the road for nearly four days now. Let's do this and get home."

Abe smirked. "Short and sweet. I like it."

"But we don't know what we'll encounter," Glenn reminded him. "So, it might not be as simple as in and out."

"Which is why we're sendin' a group ahead." Daryl straightened. "It's not a guarantee that we'll be able to handle whatever issues we see, but...it's worth a shot. We might have to come back and get the others to deal with whatever we find."

"Guess we better turn in early." Maggie studied the map for a moment more before pushing off the hood. "Eugene's on guard tonight with Rosita."

"I don't think that's wise," Abraham remarked.

"Eugene will be fine," Maggie retorted. "He won't let us down with this."

"I wasn't talkin' about Eugene."

They made the group blink, and as Abraham walked off and didn't explain, they got no answer. Glenn had a feeling he knew what Abe meant, but he didn't voice it. Maggie and Daryl exchanged a glance, he shook his head, and she nodded. Daryl told the group to grab dinner and hit the sack, and they mostly did. Maggie lingered.

He folded up the map. "What?"

"You haven't talked about anythin' but the mission."

"What else is there to talk about?"

"We could all die tomorrow or the day after on this run," she replied. "Everyone knows that. That's why Enid saw us off, why she asked us to be careful, why we held her longer than usual. We don't know what's gonna happen, and we wanted what could be her last memory of us or both of us to be a good one." They had spent the night before together, made it as happy and memorable as they could, and she were glad Enid had caught them, because it hadn't been enough. It still wasn't enough.

"Where are you goin' with this?" He already knew, but there was no stopping Maggie at this point.

"Carol wasn't there to see you off." She steadied her gaze on him. "Why wasn't she?"

"I saw her in the house," he muttered. "There wasn't a point to her gettin' out of bed to see me off."

"What happened between the two of you?"

"Nothin' happened."

"Daryl, I know you both pretty well, and she would have seen you off. Cold or warm, night or day, snow or rain—she would have been there. And you love her. I know she has to love you, so I don't—"

"Why does she have to love me?" he pitifully murmured, eyes locked on the folded map.

"You've been friends for a long time now. Of course she loves you."

"I don't think she loves me beyond...friendship, and I wouldn't get my ass outta bed to see Rick off, so." It was a strained musing, and she could tell. There was a hollowness in those baby blues, and her heart ached. "I'm gonna turn in. Got a long day ahead of us come dawn."

"Da—"

He was gone before she could get the rest of his name off her tongue, and she frowned, wrapping her arms around herself, shivering. She felt something warm and scratchy rest on her shoulders and found Glenn behind her. She smiled a thank you and glanced back over to where Daryl had slumped off too. You're wrong. She does love you beyond friendship. If he could just break through that thick wall of insecurity, maybe he could see it too.

––

Eugene and Rosita watched the recon party drive off, leaving them behind, and Rosita stretched her limbs and headed towards Maggie and Glenn's car to catch some sleep before they came back. Eugene wasn't as tired as Rosita, so he decided to lend Denise a hand with rearranging the back of the truck. Tara and Spencer were now on watch, the rest of the group cleaning weapons or sharpening their knives to pass the time. Today in the mid-afternoon or tomorrow in the early morning, this run was going to begin. For some, perhaps only one or two, might not seen the fruition of their efforts, but many would. The big picture really mattered here, so it was better to...tie up loose ends now.

"Hey, Tara." Spencer jogged over to her, no longer bearing the rifle they'd given him for his watch, and she turned to him.

"Where's your rifle?"

"Morris has it." He met her eyes. "I'll take watch tomorrow. I just have a few things I need to do before they get back."

"If it involves Rosita, go back to your post."

"Why would you think it involves Rosita?"

"Because I know it does." She didn't blink. "Go back to your post. Morris has the night shift with Adam. Just...worry about what happens when they come back, all right? Let Rosita rest."

He gave a frown. "I just want to talk to her. Since when did you become her keeper?"

"Since she's my best friend, and our mission here is more important than any boner you have. I'm in charge here, just as much as Daryl. This mission, this run, is vital, and I won't have you or her pissed each other or tired or whatever. So back to your post." She huffed. "Sometimes...it's about more than just what you want, Spencer."

"I'm not being selfish here. I just—"

"But you are. Unless you can help her with whatever it is you have to say, you are being selfish, especially since she needs rest to prepare for when the recon group gets back."

He opened his mouth to argue, but nothing came out so he screwed it shut. "Fine. I'll talk to her later then."

"I'm sure you will." She sent him a forced smile and turned away from him, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. She didn't want to say he was an asshole, but she would say he certainly didn't get any of Deanna's finer qualities. Boy might as well have spawned from a log.

– – –

Daryl crouched down low at the walkers that stumbled around the parking lot of the hospital, Glenn was by his side, scanning the area, and Francine and Abe were checking out the rear of the hospital. They had an entrance, though it was currently blocked by more than a dozen walkers, but the doors were intact and shut tightly, it appeared. There were either no walkers inside whatsoever, or they were trapped inside. They would have to enter to find out, but if they could get those doors closed, they would have time to locate meds and the equipment while Glenn's team diverted the walkers' attention.

Meanwhile Abe saw a chance to test the rear door, Francine watched his back, her machete ready to take out any threats, and Abraham found the door locked. It could have been opened by a pass key, but without power, that wasn't an option. They could knock the glass out, but that would draw the attention of the dead and cause them to break off from Glenn's distraction. It would be like what happened at Alexandria, only they couldn't be sure there weren't walkers inside.

Abe told Francine to be ready as he knocked the back of his hand against the door loud enough to draw the attention of any nearby walkers inside, and Francine took out the ones that heard it around them. He waited a moment and saw moment through the thick, dirty glass. He stepped back when a walker slammed into the glass, snarling at him, and he pulled out his knife to lend Francine a hand. The sooner they were dealt with the sooner they could report back to Daryl and Glenn.

"How many more do you think are inside?" She glanced at him on their way back to regroup.

"Who can say." He sighed. "We're pretty much gonna be flyin' blind."

"Well, we knew this might be a one-way trip." She gripped the handle to her machete. "It'll be worth it. We'll make it worth it."

He smirked at the fiery determination in her voice.

"Don't smirk at me." She flushed slightly, but not losing her composure.

"I didn't realize you cared so much."

"Of course I do. Alexandria is my home, and...I want to it to thrive long after I'm gone. I want to make a future for Judith and for Tobin's baby. That's why I'm here." She averted her eyes. "I won't let what happened last time happen again."

"You can't control everythin'," he reminded her.

"I can try."

"And you'll get yourself killed." He held his arm out to stop her, and she turned towards him. "We'll do what we came here to do, no matter who we lose, no matter how hard we have to fight. We'll get the job done, but sometimes...there just isn't anythin' you can do. Sometimes you just gotta let people go."

"Would you let Sasha go?" She arched a brow. "Or Rosita?"

"This isn't about me."

"This is about letting go," she corrected. "That involves everybody."

He shook his head. "Rosita can take care of herself. She doesn't need me or anybody looking after her, and besides she has Tara to watch her back and fill in any blind spots."

"Right." She began walking once more. "You don't care what happens to her at all."

They caught up to Daryl and Glenn, Francine filled them in on the walkers inside, and Abraham brushed off their previous conversation. He couldn't argue with her, because Rosita wasn't meaningless to him. She meant as much to him as Eugene did, but things had changed. They both had changed. There was no way around it, and honestly it was for the best. They never really worked together anyway. Not that her and Spencer worked any better, but she was still young. She still had a lot of mistakes to make. When she finally understood the lesson, maybe...they could talk.

"I know how to draw them," Glenn informed the group, "but I need more daylight and some time to get it together."

"From the look of it, there's no people around, so we can just come back tomorrow." Francine wrapped her arms around her stomach as she crouched down beside them. "We'll divide into our groups and like Daryl said, we'll get the job done. We'll need Glenn's group to move first."

"We better head back while we still have some light," Abe reminded them. "The headlights on this car have been knocked out."

"Yeah, let's go." Glenn rose and started to follow Abe and Francine, but he noticed Daryl wasn't trailing behind them. He found the man still on the ground, watching the walkers, and he frowned. "Daryl? What's wrong?"

He heaved a sigh and pushed himself up. "I got...kind of a bad feelin' about this."

"What do you mean?"

"Just... I dunno. It ain't about this run, just...knots in my gut." He pursed his lips. "Not sure what it is."

Glenn crossed his arms. "We'll be back before her appointment. It's only been a few days."

"I didn't—I wasn't—"

"You have the last sonogram in your vest pocket. You've been holding your hand over it for most of the trip." He grinned at him. "Don't worry. The next one will be great. The godfather will be there."

"You're comin' with us?" He nodded. "Not that I mind, but why?"

"Just...to remember." His grin shrank but still was there. "I don't know when Maggie wants to try again, but...being with Enid these last couple of weeks has been great. I want more of that. I want...a baby, and I want Enid to have siblings to teach and look after and be annoyed by. I want her to have the family I had growing up, but in our own way, you know?"

He nodded now. "Yeah."

"So, yeah, I want to see Carol's baby...and talk to Harlan on how we can improve our chances of keeping this baby and Maggie safe. I can't see her go through that lose again, and I don't think I can survive it either, but I won't put our lives on pause because of fear."

Daryl smiled. "Good, 'cause my kid's gonna need a playmate. Judith's too deep in the only child shit. She ain't big on sharin'."

He chuckled. "Okay, but if we end up playing princesses with our kids, I'm gonna find glitter and stickers just so they could torture you with them."

"That ain't even fair."

"But it's gonna be hilarious."

They joined Abe and Francine in the car, Daryl kept his gaze out the window, and Glenn was thinking over his plan to draw the walkers away from the hospital. The car was silent, thankfully not jammed by a shit CD like the truck—which Daryl would see Rick paid for—and it felt like the calm before the storm. Tomorrow it would all go down. Good or bad, bloody or not, they would do what they had been planning and preparing for and turn home to their family. Some of the group might find home to be a little different, but certainly filled with friendly faces. Daryl wasn't sure if he believed in an afterlife or Heaven, but he believed that they would see those they lost again somewhere, somehow. It might be a silly thought, but he didn't care. It was comforting, as was the hand over his heart, and he didn't mean the beating organ in his chest.


	29. Hell's Host Is Pentaghast

They stopped at camp, night had fallen, and Glenn rehashed what they had found to the group gathering around. They were all eager to get this run underway, as they'd spent the last four days just driving, and tomorrow it would happen. They divided into their groups and made an outline of what they would do or how they would do it, and the leads got together to let them know of that rough outline. For all they knew, they'd walk inside and face hell. It was an unknown, but it had to be done.

Maggie lowered herself down beside Daryl, who sat with his back against a tree, fiddling with the sonogram that was beginning to look ages old instead of weeks, and she rested her hands in her lap while Glenn and Tara spoke softly across from them with Francine and Rosita.

"You don't have to tell me what happened," she said without looking at him. "I won't force you to, and it's your own business, but...you need to get it out of your head, get her out of her head. You need to...find a blank spot in your mind and just focus on that. It'll be easier."

"How?" He glanced at her. "The whole reason I'm doin' this is for her and the baby. How can I not think about them?"

"Because if we fail or if somethin' goes wrong, I don't want you immediately jump to you failed her or you failed the baby. That's not how it'll be."

"We won't fail."

"We can't promise we'll succeed." She met his glance. "I'm doin' this for my future, for Enid and for Glenn. I want to use them as my strength, but I can't at the same time. I have to do this for us right here and now, and...if we do succeed then it's for the entirety of Alexandria, of my family, and it'll be worth it."

"Kinda makes sense."

"Mostly I just don't want anythin' cloggin' your head." She leaned back against the tree and pulled her legs in. "We all need to be clear-headed and sharp for tomorrow. Abe confirmed walkers inside, so we may have to fight our way through just like before."

"I fought for all of us and did just fine."

She smiled, but it was laced with sorrow and agony. "We lost so many people that night, a little boy and his family. We need more than just fine for tomorrow, Daryl."

"And I'll be that. Tomorrow."

"Okay."

Glenn joined them, sitting with his back to the fire, and he grasped Maggie's ankle, earning a soft smile from her. "We have it mostly worked out. It might fall to pieces in the morning, but who knows? We might get lucky. And if we don't, I have a plan for that too."

"Good." Daryl's eyes found Glenn's face through the strands of hair covering his own. "We oughta get some rest. Tomorrow's...well, it probably ain't gonna be easy."

"Nothin' worth it ever is." Glenn hopped up and helped Maggie to her feet, pulling her close, and he turned to Daryl. "You should try and actually sleep tonight. We have the guard worked out, so just rest."

He gave a barely noticeable nod.

Maggie tapped her boot against his shoe, and he peeked up to find them both smiling at him, and he felt like Enid must when they looked at her like this. "Good night, Daryl." She reached down and swiped the copy of the map he had behind the sonogram so he wouldn't stare at it until day break.

He grumbled as they walked off, but he was grateful. He stood up and moved closer to the fire, Francine offered him a blanket since the sleeping bags had been claimed, and he lied down on the fire warmed earth, his gaze finding the night sky, and he reached his hand up to cup his breast, the picture of his unborn child directly underneath. It was odd because all he could think about was its mother. It left him aching, but he would rather ache than void out all images of things important to him just yet.

Maggie had a point. He would take it personally if they failed if they couldn't get all the items Denise had listed, and he'd avoid going back to town. He couldn't bear to see the letdown faces of their people. He couldn't bear to see the look in Carol's eyes when he told her he failed to do this or that, and it all went to shit right before his eyes. He lost people, lost the equipment, and he lost a chance to expand their future medical care. He couldn't do that and face those people. His people, his family. He's let them down so many times before, and he couldn't handle this being added to what had to be a long list.

So when daylight began to cut across the dark sky, his mind would be clear, and the only thing he'd be concerned with was keeping his group safe while they hauled equipment back and forth. That was all he could afford to think about come morning.

But for now, he could dip into his memories to lull himself to sleep. His memories and what awaited him in the future. Little legs kicking, small fists barely moving, big eyes opening slightly and closing... He didn't have any clothes to put the baby in, even in his imagination, but he'd get that sorted. And even if he didn't, Eric would.

He lifted the sonogram and held it against the moonlight, the thin paper seemingly glowing in that light, and he smiled to himself. They would do this and go home, and he'd get to see the baby again on that screen. Maybe if he asked, he could hear the heartbeat too. He still remembered how it sounded, but frankly, it was sound he didn't mind hearing all the time. It felt more real than the ultrasound. A heartbeat, and while it didn't move in time with his, it was there, echoing around him and around Carol. It was real and loud and fast. It was beautiful. One of the most beautiful things he'd seen in his entire life, right up there with the first time he held and fed Judith—and of course its mother. He couldn't pick on particular memory where she looked most beautiful, because to him...she always looked beautiful, and she always would.

Once his eyes closed, the night became a blur, and they did not open again until someone shook him awake. He found the group lively and beginning preparations, and he was handed breakfast with a heavy slap to the back. He hadn't opened his eyes entirely, but he knew it was Abe who had woken him up. He ate quickly and caught up with Glenn and Denise, moving hair from his eyes to view the piece of paper with a rough sketch of the hospital on it.

"We'll take this side," Glenn told her, "once we secure the outside. We'll search it for clothes and anything we can make use of in the individual rooms. I'll keep a team outside with me, likely just three or four of my original party. You'll be too busy with meds, and Daryl's group will be in and out."

She nodded. "If we finish early, we'll lend you a hand."

"That'd be great. Send Maggie and Eugene their way."

"And me?"

"I could use a spear." He smirked at her, and she returned it. "You'll be with me. I'll have Tara lead the search."

"Good idea."

"What's goin' on?" Daryl asked the pair.

"Just...some last minute changes." He shrugged. "If I get the outside secure, I'll send a few of my guys in to find any clothes and gloves and tubing—stuff like that that was left behind. Denise and Maggie are hitting their medical supplies with Eugene, but not the individual rooms, so... It's just something to pass the time. It's...a big if, but we'll need them later on."

"Yeah, that sounds good."

"It ought to. He spent half the night mulling it over." Tara set a bag of weapons over his picture. "Pick your favorite. We leave in twenty."

– – –

There was little need to rally the troops, but Denise and Daryl took a moment to anyway. Looking at the faces of the people meant so much. To look out and see people who readily supported him and this mission, who were willing to lay down their lives for it, was a frigid warmth he was growing far too used to. It was still nice, he thought to himself as they reiterated the goal of this mission, to know this was bigger than him or Carol or the baby. They were a reminder of that, one he would hold onto it. They were one group right now, and this group had one goal. Until it was completed, or as close to completed as they could get, they weren't going home. They knew when to say when, but sometimes they just had to push a little further, and it'd be worth it. He told them that, and he could see worry and fear pop up in a few sets of eyes, but he reminded them again that they weren't in this alone. They had the entire group in individual teams. This wasn't a suicide mission, and while it wasn't a simple in and out, that didn't mean it would be extremely difficult.

That seemed to ease some nerves, so Denise decided it was best they leave on that note. They had to park far from the hospital, but Adam was on standby in the truck. Once Glenn signaled the go ahead, he'd pull in so Daryl's group could load it up. Maggie and Denise had moved the totes for medicine into the back of the SUV, as it had more trunk space, and it simply made more sense than two groups trying to load up the same space.

Glenn caught Maggie and kissed her without saying a word, leaving directly after to join his group. She inhaled and turned towards her own team, seeing Tara and Denise holding hands until Tara was out of reach and into Glenn's group. Maggie and Eugene joined Denise and double checked their bags to look for any holes or tears, and then there were none, they moved into position.

"Think we ought to?" Spence mused at Rosita.

"Ought to what?" She was crouched down beside him, Francine ahead with Morris and Jenny. Her eyes moved to his, and he was shaking his head. "Get your head in the game, Monroe." She moved ahead to slip between Jenny and Morris.

"What the lady said," Abraham spoke from behind Spencer, causing him to glare, but not before he jumped. "Keep your voice down."

But you're the one still talking, he growled mentally, turning his attention back his group. He felt rather than heard Daryl dropped beside him, and his pulse began to accelerate. Glenn would make his move with his group, and then it was up to them.

––

Daryl cringed at the sound of Rick's CD blaring from the car as it rolled by hidden in the trees, Abe chuckled under his breath at the reaction, and they watched the walkers stumble towards the sound. They waited, not seeing Tara and Amber taking out stray walkers while Glenn, Tom, and Lee took out the ones that bunched up until they were none left.

Glenn and Tara moved towards the rear of the hospital, the music continued to blare as the car crept onward, and Tom, Amber, and Lee waited in the front of the building. Francine knocked out the glass to the rear door at the same time Daryl and Maggie busted out the glass to the front doors. They slipped inside, Francine took out the walker that stumbled hungrily towards her group, and she nodded to Rosita take the lead, falling back to take up the rear.

Francine, Abe, Daryl and Eugene gave the walls a nice, loud bang to draw in any walkers that yet remained in the hospital. After a few moments, a few roamed their way. They made quick work of them, Eugene having settled nicely into his survivor role, and once they were taken care of and moved out of the way, the groups headed out.

Maggie, Eugene, and Denise parted always with Daryl and his group, following the directions to their location, and Denise tightened her grip on her spear. Maggie was taking point, holding the hilt to her blade. Eugene was watching the rear, and their footsteps echoed in the empty halls. The lack of windows forced them to use flashlights, but they were ready for this, so they flicked them on and continued.

Maggie guided the beam over the dingy floors, the discolored tiles and blood splattered telling a tale of what happened when it went down. She made a point to avoid the blood stains, even though she probably stepped over plenty while digging out her flashlight. They were also dried, practically begging to be scraped off. She still made the effort, lifting her head and glancing back at her team.

Denise kept taking calming breaths, though they did little to ease her nerves. Her palms were warm and moist on the spear, and her heart was pounding in her ears. She could feel her awareness of everything burst into overdrive, and despite all of that she was still there. She was walking in time with Maggie, keeping herself composed, and she was ready. Should a walker jump out at her, she might scream, but she'd sure as hell plunge the tip of her blade into its skull. There was no denying that. She was afraid—she felt no shame in admitting it—but being afraid didn't mean she couldn't still do what she feared. She wouldn't let it stop her. She wouldn't be slowed down. This was for the future, a future she was letting herself consider now. She hoped it was a happy one with Tara. She didn't care if it was a for one month or week or even one day. It'd be worth it.

Across the building Daryl and Francine slipped down the hall in unison, Abe and Spencer were filling the hall with light from the lanterns, and Rosita kept her knife close. She didn't like how silent it was save for the echo of their shoes. They were all familiar with toe-heel, so that was to be expected, but her skin was crawling. She felt like she was being watched, but that was ridiculous. They were in a dark hospital, walkers once occupied these halls, and no one living clearly had entered this building in a while. There was no reason for her to feel this way yet she did, and it unnerved her more than anything. She would keep her guard up because she had a feeling sooner or later something would be coming. For them, for their supplies, for this hospital, she couldn't say, but something or someone would be coming. It just seemed like with every step, they were painting a big ass target on their backs.

Francine motioned for Rosita and Morris to watch the rear, and she spotted Spencer eyeing Rosita. She had to resist the urge to smack him on the back of the head. She didn't know what his obsession was with her, but be it hot sex or being a creep, she did not give one single fuck. She needed his head in the game, not on what Rosita looked like naked. If he were in her group, she would have his ass marching in the front of the group to take point, but he wasn't. And she wasn't going to waste the energy to try and make him look forward. She had everyone else's ass to watch, not just his. Boy Wonder would either get with the program, or...she'd lose some more friends on this run. She hoped not, but if she tried to correct Spencer, she might distract someone else and get them killed via walker or surprise attacker lurking in the halls. Who knew what would happen to them in here, and that was why she would have to let Spencer waddle off on his own. He'd catch on sooner or later.

Abraham glanced over when Francine sighed. It was a barely audible sound, but after months so of traveling with Rosita, he knew what the sound of annoyed yet concerned sighs under the breath sounded like. He was a pro at detecting them. That's when she switched to glares, and there was no need to look over; he felt them.

The cause of her sigh was no surprise, and if he didn't know her, he might think she was sweet on the boy. Hell, she might be deep down, but right now she didn't want to be the cause of someone else's death. He knew she blamed herself for all those lost at her old camp. She had no hand in it, but blame was a clingy monster. He had no words to try and knock it off; that'd come to her in time once the lesson had been learned. And honestly, if he did try and talk to her about it, she'd probably just blow him off. She was the type of person who liked to handle her issues alone. She likely wouldn't grow out of it any second soon, so he decided to take matters into his own hand.

Spencer blinked when Abraham suddenly moved back, blocking any view of Francine's team save for Morris. He wasn't sure what just happened or why, because Daryl, Abe and himself had taken up a triangle position in front of Francine's group. He didn't know why he decided to break it, but he had a feeling it had to be caused by a misconception. One day he'd like to just sit down and talk to the man, but that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. Rosita wouldn't let him, and...honestly, Abraham might just sock him in the jaw and walk off. He wasn't exactly the best with words, and he was a bit of an asshole, but Abraham was too. Even more so than him, and why in the hell was he arguing this out in his head? He had better things to do. Like his damn job.

Daryl motioned for Abe, and they positioned themselves on either side of the two shut doors, Francine divided her group, half with Daryl, half with Abe, giving them a nod and pulling her own weapon free. Daryl and Abe's eyes met, a nod was exchanged, and they yanked the doors open, jerking forward to take out anything that moved behind the door.

Nothing came out save for a wave of dust, Francine coughed softly when it hit her, and Daryl brushed a hand in front of his face before entering with Abe at his side. They continued through the hall, and Daryl could feel the picture in his breast pocket poking him. He had to fold it to fit, and he regretted it, but it was like a prompt. He knew who he was doing this for, and if he somehow got whacked over the head and forgot, he would have that slight jab to bring the memory back. It was nice. He couldn't wait to get back and...see the baby at the appointment. He couldn't wait to see Carol. Be a yes or hell no, he wanted to see her. Badly.

"Daryl!"

He jerked his head up and found a wall an inch from his face. "What?" He jumped back and felt Abe's hand on his collar. "Sorry."

"Now really isn't the time to zone out." He released him. "We're almost there."

"Right." He cleared his throat and pushed those thoughts away. Maggie was right. A blank spot was best for this.

––

Glenn opened the back of the truck when Adam pulled around to the back of the building, Tara was scouting out the area with Jenny, and Adam kept his eyes peeled for Daryl and Abe and Spencer. Tom was keeping watch by the hood of the truck just in case any more walkers stumbled through. Or worse, people.

Tara and Jenny returned about sometime later with no sightings of people or walkers, Tom had climbed onto the hood of the car, Amber was cleaning her weapon, and Adam was tapping his thumb against the steering wheel. Glenn hadn't kept track of the time, but he could hear the pocket watch clicking in his pocket. It had been over twenty minutes, or so it felt like. He didn't want to watch the clock. It'd only make time move slower, as he learned when he worked at that pizza joint what felt like lifetimes ago. He had no reason to worry. It was a lot of ground to cover, and they hadn't heard any screams or gunshots. It was likely a long ass walk with dust and spiders.

After thirty minutes had passed and no walkers or even a whisper of people came, Glenn sent Tara in as lead with Jenny and Adam to secure items in the rooms. Tom seemed disappointed that he couldn't go with, but Glenn needed him here more. Three outside combined with Francine's four could protect Daryl's three. He would just have to be bored with the rest of them. He'd take calm of dull over the bloodshed of interesting.

Tara guided Adam and Jenny to the wing Glenn had told her about, and she adjusted the bag on her shoulder, happy to be stretching her limbs. She didn't tan well, and this way she avoided sunburn. She still had to keep her eyes open and her ears sharp. A change of scenery didn't mean it was time to chill out and take it easy. There was no time for being blasé while on a run.

"What do you want us to grab?" Jenny inquired. "Surely not everything we see."

"Just medical supplies like gauze and tubing or any sort, or IV bags. And little ointment packages. Just anything you think might be of value. It's extra anyway, so if it's crap...we'll throw it out before we get back to Alexandria." She smirked at them, and Jenny chuckled.

"Okay then. I'll take over here." She wandered off.

"Sorry if that's vague," Tara said to Adam. "It's the best I can say right now."

"I asked Denise before we left," he confessed, "so I know what to keep an eye out for."

"Smart man."

"I'll search here." He gestured to the right. "Why don't you look up there? Call us if you need us."

"And here I thought I was taking the lead."

"Sorry. It just seems like the best thing to do. Split up and meet back here. It's a big area."

"And we need to be ready to drop everything if they need us," she added.

"Yeah."

"Good. Now, if you need me, I'll be searching over there."

– – –

"I haven't seen so much medicine in all my life." Maggie dusted off the vials and wrapped them in cloth to keep them safe on the trip back home.

"Isn't that a good thing?" Denise couldn't help the laugh that slipped out.

"It's a great thing." She zipped up her bag. "I'll take this out, put it in the tote, and I'll bring up another bag."

"Do you think we'll need it?"

"We might not fill it, but yeah."

Maggie carried the bag down to the car, spotting Glenn and the others on watch, and she could only send him a sweet smile. She didn't want to distract him or anyone else, and she had to get back to finish up her part of this mission. She would have plenty of time to talk to him and gush over this score when they were at home, and it wouldn't jinx them. She couldn't wait to show it to Enid. She might have to swipe a stethoscope for their young doctor-in-training. She would just have to find something to wrap it in. Probably tissue paper.

She ran a hand through her hair and slipped back inside the building, passing the boys as they carried out some piece of equipment caked in dust. She wondered how they were doing with their progress, but she didn't have time to check up on them just yet. She wanted to wrap up her own task before she snooped in one someone else's.

The trio worked to ensure all medicine had been carefully wrapped and properly placed in the bags. Once the area was stripped clean, they packed them away into the totes. Maggie used the blankets they had been sleeping with to envelop the bags like pigs in a blanket as an extra just in case. Better safe than sorry. There was no replacing a single item inside these bags.

Daryl's group loaded up the truck nicely, ensuring everything was tied down and secure. It didn't take too long. Maggie and Denise offered to aid them once they'd squared away their task, and Eugene kept watch with Glenn's crew, as he didn't want to just sit around. Once everything had been loaded, Eugene and Jenny drove the car filled with meds out of the way of the truck and deeper into the woods. Adam decided to join them and keep any walkers away from the car, Lee and Morris hopped in the truck, but they didn't dare move it. They were still waiting on Tara's group, now with Rosita and Spencer, to round up all spare but necessary items.

Maggie did a double check of the equipment in the back of the truck with Denise, who was wiping off the equipment while sighing about how long it'd take to clean the rest of it off, and Maggie laughed, crossing another name off the list.

"How's it comin'?" Daryl gripped the strap to his crossbow.

"Slowly but surely. Abe covered most of the equipment, so I have to uncover and then recover them." She turned to him. "Why? What's up?"

"Nothin' much. Tara's with Rosita and Spencer, diggin' through some cabinets. Glenn and Abe headed out with Francine to get some fresh water since we went through a lot." It was cold, but that didn't stop them from sweating or obtaining a dry throat. "It's just us here, plus Amber and Tom on lookout and Lee and Morris in the front of the truck."

"Ah." Maggie scribbled out a note with a smile wide on her lips. "We're headin' home after this?"

"See no reason why we shouldn't."

"Good." She lifted her eyes. "I have a gift for Enid, and I can't wait to give it to her. Besides...I have an appointment I can't miss."

"An appointment?" Daryl frowned. "Is everythin' all right?"

"I sure hope so. I can't contend for godmom if somethin' happens to the baby," she jested. "He or she needs to be in one hundred percent good health. I'll be there to see it for myself, but you can bet your ass if anything is even slightly off, I'm blamin' it on you."

"Why me?"

"Because I can't blame it on Carol and expect to win the godmom slot." A soft smile crossed her lips. "I'll need the practice regardless, but...what can I say? I'd like to have a title that doesn't hold so much weight."

He chuckled lightly. "Right."

"You're already a great mom," Denise commented, dusting off her pants, and Maggie beamed. "Now, let's get this show on the road. It's two days back, and I'll need about ten to straighten up my spine from sleeping in the car. I'm already feeling the kinks."

"Yes. Let's."

Daryl whirled around the unfamiliar voice that came from behind him, moving instantly to protect Maggie and Denise, to shield them with his body, and they both reached for their weapons only to find the intruder raising two guns on them with a sickly arrogant smile on her lips.

She couldn't be more than five feet, nine inches, standing there in a camo crop top and black jeans with combat boots. Her red hair half shaven, a long strand curling naturally at the end, her black eyes hauntingly calm and brimming with the rage at the same time. She had a steady hand, the .45's in her hands not shaking a single bit as she aimed them at the trio. She had a machete on her belt, pepper spray, a stun gun, and those boots were stained red with blood. They had a feeling it wasn't walker blood. She was ready to kill; they just had to ensure it wasn't them.

"Drop the weapons and come out."

Daryl was reluctant to do just that, but he had a feeling she wasn't alone out here. To bark orders at a group of six without a hint of worry she had to be insane or had them outnumbered. So he complied for the sake of his group and for the sake of his future. He would comply now and kick ass later. She didn't know about the others, or she did and already had them subdued, which might hamper the plans forming in his mind.

If she already got Eugene and Jenny, she had their meds. She had their future, and she could do anything with it. Keep it, ship it off to her main group, destroy it so no one could claim it. They might never see it again, and part of this mission might just go to hell. If they survived it at all. He couldn't read her very well. She wasn't too hostile. Yet.

"Don't make me wait," she hissed.

He set his crossbow and knife on the floor of the truck, lifting his hands as he neared the exit, Maggie and Denise exiting after him, and just as Daryl stepped out of the truck, he was met with the butt of a rifle to the face.

"Daryl." Maggie tried to reach him, but her hand was caught by the man who'd knocked him out and jerked around as he pulled her toward him. She groaned, her arm being twisted behind her back, and she sent the woman who kicked at Daryl a sharp and venomous glare.

"Now, now. It's not polite to glower at your captors." She holstered her weapons and grabbed the blonde, pushing her towards another of her group. "Grab this one too." She nudged Daryl with her boot and strolled off.

Maggie watched as two men lifted Daryl up off the group, letting his feet drag behind him, and the one who held her twisted more on her arm, and she stumbled forward after Denise and the woman who held her at gunpoint. She passed the truck to see two more of this hostile group tossing out Morris' and Lee's dead bodies from the driver and passenger seats of the truck. Amber and Tom were nowhere in sight.

"Oh, I almost forgot." The woman who was calling the shots turned towards the hospital with something in her hand, humming. "Don't forget the girl and the boy who wandered off into the bushes." She toyed with the unknown item, Maggie strained to see as they quickened their pace. "And the truck. Bring it with us. Let's see what goodies of mine they found." She tossed it into the building and sauntered off into the woods.

As they were lugged away, Maggie only heard the explosion, and she gasped, trying to turn back and see, but the asshole wouldn't let her. She saw Denise pale, and she fixed a glare on the woman's back. She had killed two of theirs, had men drag them off, sent more after Amber and Tom, and the bitch just threw a goddamn grenade into the hospital where Rosita, Spencer, and Tara were. She was going to pay for this. If Maggie made sure of anything, it'd be that she'd pay.

The woman suddenly spun around and clamped her hand down on Maggie's neck, Maggie could only whine, and she smiled sweetly. "I told you it was rude to glare." She slammed her down into the earth with a strength nobody had expected and tightened her grip, and soon the world began to fade out as Denise begged her to stop.

– – –

Glenn laughed at what Abraham had said, adjusting the lid to the jug of water, and he minded the fallen branches as they ambled back, just taking their time. Hanging out. They hadn't had much time to do it prior to the run, and it had been all business since they left Alexandria, so Glenn decided to just enjoy his strange company. On the trip back, he and Maggie had a lot to talk about, so they'd head back alone. It was important but only important between them. He hoped the others didn't mind.

"So, how long until he makes a damn move?" Abe asked.

"I don't know what you mean."

He chuckled. "Daryl."

"Oh." He thought for a moment. "I think he already did."

"She must not have responded then."

"I'm sure she feels the same. I mean...it's obvious." He glanced at the man. "It's been obvious for a long time. I mean, if you had any sense...you'd know something was there."

"Makes the whole Tobin thing weird."

"But without Tobin, there wouldn't be a baby," Glenn pointed out. "And that's a good thing. We...all of us could use some more kid's laughter."

Abe smirked. "Does that mean you'll try again?"

"It was never in question. We just had a lot to work through, and we still do, but we're not going to try and play it safe. We want a family, a child of our own, and I'll do whatever I can to keep Maggie and whatever future kid or kids we have safe. I won't let myself or her make past mistakes again."

His smirk softened into a smile. "Well, not that it matters, but in my opinion, you two will do just fine. Hell, you already are."

Glenn couldn't help but grin at that. "Thanks, Abraham."

"That wasn't coming from me. Sasha said some things. I'm just repeatin' them."

"Well, I guess I know who I'm seeing second when we get home."

A loud explosion caught their attention, Glenn dropped the jugs he'd been holding and bolted off towards the hospital instantly, Abe moving right behind him. They had gone deep into the woods to try and locate water. Daryl had given them instructions on how to tell when water was nearby. Abe wanted to try his hand at it, insisted he could do it, and they probably found the water source furthest away from the damn group. They were paying for it now. Next time, he'd just let Daryl go.

After huffing it back to the hospital, they found no trace of their group. The hospital was crumbling, wisps of smoke creeping out of some areas, and given the doorway...a bomb or grenade or some other type of homemade explosive was thrown inside randomly, trapping anyone inside. Anyone here being Tara, Rosita, and Spencer. They were on the bottom floor, so either they were damn lucky...or they were already dead.

On the ground laid the bodies of Lee and Morris, Abraham neared to find a knife wound on the temple the cause of death for both men. He scanned the area for any signs of movement, for any men left behind to attack the survivors of this group, but there was nothing moving in the bushes or behind the trees, save for only the wind. It would soon be walkers after that explosion. They had to move.

"Tara?" Glenn jogged towards the back entrance, but it was blocked too by one of their cars. It had been rammed into the building. He ground his teeth and backed up, looking for a window, or a collapsed wall—anyway inside. "Rosita? Spencer? Anybody?!"

"Shh." Abe joined him.

"We need to get inside. We have to know what the hell happened here, where the others are, where Maggie..." He stopped to take a calming breath. "We need answers, and they're the only ones who might be able to provide them."

"No, they were likely inside the whole time." He narrowed his eyes at drag marks in the ground. "They must have Daryl, Maggie, Denise, Amber, and Tom. They dragged either Daryl or Tom out of here."

"It was Daryl." Francine hurried over to them. They were surprised to see her, especially since the last time they saw her she had spotted a boar and went to try and catch it for dinner. "They came in, killed Lee and Morris, and they took Denise, Daryl, and Maggie. They were looking for Tom and Amber, but I found them first. I told them to find Eugene and stay there to guard the medicine and each other." Her apologetic eyes found Glenn's. "I was outnumbered. I couldn't risk showing myself. I'm sorry."

"Did you see where?" was all Glenn replied with.

"Not the entire way, but I know which direction." She nodded. "I can lead us partway. There might be tracks."

Glenn inhaled deeply and swallowed. "No."

"What?" She gasped. "Why not?"

"We'd be three against however many of them are waiting back at their camp. We need better odds than that. We can't just go stomping through the woods after them. We need to know what we're in for." He clenched his jaw. "We'll do some recon first, try and get to whoever is still alive in the hospital out, and then we'll get Eugene's team and rescue our people."

"If it's anything like last time, they might just save themselves." Francine put her hands on her hips. "Maggie's a fighter, and so is Daryl. Toss in that they might have just killed her girlfriend, and you bet your ass Denise will come out swinging."

"They're smart," Abe remarked. "They got our best by surprised, cut 'em off by the knees, and they took out their backup. They won't give them a chance to revolt. They'll probably just kill them if they try to fight."

"So, what's our plan then? Dig into stone and rock until we maybe find Tara or Rosita or Spencer while they get further away?" Her brows furrowed, a scoff escaping from between her lips. "Because that's bullshit. They have our people, our equipment! We can't let them get away with that."

"And we won't," Glenn assured her. "We just need to be careful with this. You and I will try and locate them while Abe and Eugene try and reach whoever they can. The others can keep watch for walkers and more of these assholes."

Abe gave a nod. "I'll get Eugene. You two shouldn't waste any more time."

Glenn returned the nod and hurried off with Francine.

––

"Do you think we'll actually use this stuff?" Spencer wrapped plastic tubing around his elbow to his hand to loop it.

"Who knows?" Rosita was searching through a filing cabinet, finding a few empty power bar wrappers. "Denise seems to think so. It can't hurt. We might be able to use it to strangle someone."

"You're just full of positive thoughts today."

She didn't reply, just stood up and kicked the drawer shut, turning to him. "Okay, I think we've sucked this place dry. We should move on, find Tara."

"Lead the way."

She made to take a step forward when there was an echoing sound of hollow metal, her brows furrowed, and Spencer moved to check the hall when something exploded, knocking him back into Rosita. They hit the wall, the ceiling began to collapse, and Rosita tried to scramble to her feet to get out of this office, but she wasn't quick enough. Or perhaps the building was too decayed to withstand an explosion beyond two seconds.

Spencer rolled onto his back, Rosita found herself underneath him, his arms cover hers, his chest against her back, and they both coiled up as more of the room tumbled down around them. He placed a hand on the back of her neck, and she wasn't sure why, but she honestly didn't give a shit about that. She squeezed her eyes shut and hoped they didn't end up as walker pancakes. She lowered her head, trying to keep from yelping, and Spencer winced by ear.

Her heart was pounding in her chest, a dull ringing filling her ears, and the building began to still. She could feel Spencer's rapid breathing against her spine, and she dared to open her eyes. It was pitch black in the room, and she nearly choked on the air when she finally forced herself to breathe. She shivered in his arms, and she felt around on her belt with a trembling hand for her flashlight, finding it with mild ease.

Flicking it on she surveyed the situation, pulling away from Spencer to climb onto her feet. She held the wall to keep her balance—and her knees from buckling—and she saw the entrance completely covered in debris. There was no getting out, and there were no windows in this shitty little office. The only office they'd been inside the last hour that didn't have any goddamn windows!

Turning to Spencer, she found a pool of blood by his knees, and she guided the light to his hand that was completely bloodied. She dropped to her feet beside him and looked it over, seeing a massive gash. It must have gotten caught on under part of the fallen ceiling. That explained his wince.

"Here, hold this." She handed him the flashlight and removed her coat, pulling off her sweater underneath. She ripped at the knitted material, using both her teeth and her knife when her teeth didn't cut it. She stopped the bleeding with part of it and wrapped it with another. She had nothing to clean it with, so she'd let Denise do that when they got out of there. Until then this would have to do. "Does it hurt?"

"Like hell, actually." He chuckled humorlessly and returned the flashlight to her. "So, what's the plan?"

"What makes you think I have one?" She moved away from the blood and what remained of her knitted sweater, slipping back into her coat.

"Because it's you. You always have a plan."

"Not always."

"Well, most of the time then." He stood up and moved to stand beside her. "So, what now?"

"I don't know." She approached what she assumed was the doorway, but honestly. it was difficult to tell. "We could move these rocks, try and find our way. We might just meet more rock, but it's the only thing we can do besides sit around and wait to die."

"Okay, I'll take it."

"No, you just...rest. I'll work on it."

"Rest? Seriously?"

"You're injured in the one spot you need to use to move rocks! You won't help me. You'll slow me down, and you'll probably hurt yourself even worse. Just trust me and sit there. Hold the flashlight for me."

He lowered his eyes. "All right." He took the flashlight from her and sat down, holding the light to shine on the doorway, and she got to work. They sat in silence for a good while. He held the light and watched Rosita work, feeling useless and trying to will his hand better so he could help. It would get them out of there faster if they had two people working on than one. If she wasn't so stubborn, they might be a little closer to getting out instead of only having a small pile of moved ceiling. He wouldn't verbalize this. She'd only bite his head off, and he didn't want to fight. He just wanted to get out of this prison and back home. Well, back home after they found the others.

He lifted his gaze and broke the silence. "What do you think happened?"

"I'm guessing some assholes stumbled upon our group. I know Daryl wouldn't go down without a fight, so they likely threw...some explosive in here to try and prove a point, prove they were in control of the situation."

"Do you think it's those men who took Maggie and Carol? Negan's people?" He studied the side of her profile. "What if we didn't kill them all?"

"Who's to say? Maybe we didn't."

"It sounds like their M.O. if what the people at Hilltop said is true."

"Well, we're not dead, and we'll make them pay for this." She grunted and tugged on loose debris.

"And if we can't? If we can't get even out of here?"

"Well, we're getting nowhere with you bitching like this," she snapped. "I don't need pessimism. I've got plenty of that all on my own, thank you."

"Why do you do that? I speak one word, and you blow up on me."

"Because you're whining, and whining isn't going to get us out of this situation, Spencer. I need ideas, a plan—not what ifs and wails of how I hurt your feelings. You're a grown up, but I swear you're a child. Grow the fuck up, Spencer." She groaned and turned back to trying to get dig their way out. She was too livid at his outburst to even continue, so following a sharp albeit childish kick to the mass of rocks, she plopped down as far away from him as she could, pulling her legs in and glowering at nothing in particular. She was too pissed to work. She wanted to strangle him, but being caught in a small space with a walker wouldn't do her any good. Maybe if she could just make him black out...

Of all people to get trapped in a small room with, she groused internally, her eyes moving to the doorway once more, a sadness gnawing at her.

"She'll be fine," Spencer mumbled, staring with more concentration than she'd seen him have towards the floor. "Tara's not gonna be taken down like this."

"Just us apparently."

He didn't take the bait, however, his eyes falling even more, and she pulled her legs in tighter. He curled his wounded hand into a fist and raised his head. "Why me?"

"What?" She lifted her own head now and studied what she could see of his face.

"Why did you pick me? Out of everyone in Alexandria...why? You can't seem to stand me at all."

She inhaled deeply and rested her head against the wall. "I don't know. I guess... Well, you're cute. You're...so not complicated." He chuckled somewhat at how she said that. "I guess...you were available when I needed someone."

"And now I'm not even worth being polite to?"

"It's not like that."

"Yes, it is. And I don't mean to sound...whiny, because I'm okay with whatever the hell you want this to be, but I'm not okay with how you treat me afterward. You don't even acknowledge me as a person."

"Do you want me to apologize?"

"No, I just...want you to stop. That'd be great." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I treat myself poorly enough without your help, thanks."

She frowned. "What?"

"Nothing. It...just forget it." He averted his eyes and pursed his lips. "We should try and find a way out of here."

"Unless you have a jackhammer, it'll take hours—hell, maybe even days—for us to dig our way out. Considering the layer above this doesn't collapse on us, or we don't cause unstable ceiling/flooring to give because of the movement, and we get crushed like ants."

"And I'm the pessimist?"

"I'm a realist."

"Sure."

"Can we go back to when you were quietly moping?"

"I was not moping."

"You were." She smirked. "And it wasn't all that cute."

He sent her a soft glare. "Just help me try and get out of here."

"Fine, but don't cry to me when your hand gets infected and falls off." She hopped up, extending a hand out to him as she neared, and she helped him to his feet. "Maybe then we can have a proper talk."

"I'd like that."

"Then help me dig." She set her hand on the mass of debris and glanced at him. "And let me know when your hand starts to hurt."

"I will."

"Good, now let's get to work. I want to kick the ass of whatever asshole did this." And if Tara or Maggie or Denise were hurt or worse, if any of the others were hurt or worse, that bitch wouldn't know their next breath was their last. They were already numbered. They just didn't know it yet.

––

"What the hell?" Tara heard an aggressive voice by the entrance to the hospital, and she heard Maggie cry out for Daryl. She hurried to a window, ducking down to try and get a visual of what was going on outside, and her eyes found her girlfriend and Maggie being lead off with Daryl being dragged behind them. They were surrounded by a group of women and a couple men.

Her eyes moved to the truck where a woman was climbing inside to drive it back to their camp, brown orbs landing on the lifeless bodies of Lee and Morris. She seethed, dug her nails into the sill of the window, and she saw a woman nearing the doors to the hospital. She couldn't afford to get caught like this. Especially with Rosita and Spencer in the other end of the hall.

There was a clinking sound, Tara turned her head and spotted a grenade about twenty feet away from her, and she shot up, bolting away. She didn't know where she could go, but honestly, any place was better than this one.

She didn't know exactly when the grenade went off so much as she knew she'd been blown off her feet. She barely managed to avoid smacking head first into a wall, and she slid into a room like a rag doll, her arms stretched out before her. Her vision was wonky, and she wasn't sure if she'd made out entirely unscathed, but that mattered little as her poor vision only increased until the world grew black.

––

Abraham filled Eugene and the others in of what happened to Daryl and the women, Amber and Jenny got to work on clearing the entrance with gloved hands while Eugene and Abe searched around the building for a nearby window to climb through, and Adam kept watch. Tom tried to repair the truck they'd driven into the side of the building.

Eugene spotted a window they could use that wasn't so near the damage that they couldn't get through, Abraham climbed through first, flicking on his flashlight, and he started down the hall with Eugene on his heels. He didn't know what he'd find, but he truly hoped it wasn't the walker forms of his friends. He would kill them, no doubt about that, but he didn't want to have to make that choice. They were more than just friends, and they had been for months now. There was no going easy on the assholes who did this, but if any more of them were dead, they would pay in ways they didn't know existed.

They came across a massive cave-in, there was little room to go around, but they managed to scrape through. With lovely new tears on their coats, they managed to scrape through. Abe would ask Carol if she could patch it up. It was his favorite coat, after all, and after he saved her lover boy, she would owe him a favor. This was a small one, and he'd ask nicely. It wasn't as though coats grew off trees these days, and again this was his favorite. Favorites were...hard to come by.

There was a muffled sound coming from the far end of the hall, Abe pulled his knife from his belt and crept over to it, but all he saw was another pile of debris. He could hear movement from behind it, though, so perhaps it was one of theirs trying to dig their way out.

"Tara?" He shouted to make his voice be heard through the layers of rock and wall. "Rosita?"

"Abe?" was the faint response that called back, and it was definitely Espinosa.

"Are you all right?" Eugene hurried over. "Is anybody injured?"

"Spencer is. His hand is cut up pretty bad." Although she could say the same damn thing about herself after digging for so long. "How about you? Is Tara with you?"

Abe and Eugene exchanged a glance, and Abe called back, "She's not with you?"

"No, she was scavenging in the other end of the hall."

"Okay." Abe thought for a moment then turned to Eugene. "Go find Tara. I'll get the others and dig these two out. We'll stay inside the hospital. We're losing daylight, and we're too exposed. Move the cars around back by the window, and if Tara can, have her keep watch with you. In case the others come back, or those dickheads."

"And if those dickheads do come back?"

"Kill them."

With a promise to come back swiftly, Abraham and Eugene left. Abe rounded up the cars and their team, tossing a pair of finger-less gloves at Adam. It wasn't much, but it might help. They were going to have cut up fingers regardless because they were going to get them out of there if it was the last thing they did on this mission. He wasn't going to leave them behind, and once they were out, they would find Daryl and Maggie and Denise and whoever else and make those fuckers pay for trying to screw with their people, for killing two of them. Revenge wasn't a clean thing, but fuck it. Nobody did this to them. Nobody.

After hours of digging and no real progress save for being able to hear them slightly better, Abe called it a night, apologizing to Rosita and Spencer. They were all exhausted, all starving, and they couldn't keep it up. Eugene had yet to return, so he'd have to check on him too.

"Don't worry about it." Rosita shivered, the moved layers of rock allowing cold air to slip through effortlessly. "Just rest. We'll be out tomorrow."

Abe set his hand on the mass blocking his way. "Yeah."

"Then don't worry about it. Just—just find Tara and Eugene. We'll be okay."

"Do you have anything to eat in there?"

"Not really." Spencer had to put actual energy into keep his teeth from chattering. "Just some water, though we're running low on that."

"Eat," Rosita insisted. "You need the strength to dig us out. We'll survive. We've...done it before, and I'm sure we can handle it."

"You're makin' me feel guilty."

"Good." She smirked. "Use that guilt to dig us the hell out of here in the morning."

He chuckled. "You got it."

She moved away from the cold air and huddled in the corner with Spencer, rubbing her arms and shuddering. "Here." She tossed one of the doctor's thin white coats at him to use as a blanket. It wasn't much, but it was something.

"Why don't you just...sit between my legs?"

"What?"

"Just hear me out. You can use my body heat, and I can use yours. There's no space for it to travel, and we can share the...er, blanket." He could feel her eyeing him. "I'm not going to try anything. I can barely feel my fingertips at this point."

"Is that really the optimal position for staying warm?"

"I don't know. If you want that, go ask Eugene."

"I can't."

"Look, it's just to keep warm. I won't make any moves. I'm too tired to. It's an effort to keep my eyes open, and honestly, I don't know why I'm making it. You can't even see me." She laughed to his surprise. "I just want to sleep."

"Fine." She set her hand on his knee, using it as a guide, she lowered herself down carefully, gasping softly at the frigid spot of floor her ass landed on. She shivered and pulled her legs in, covering them with the coat. It sucked. Obviously.

She leaned back, his chin hitting the back of her head before he turned his head to the side, and she felt him sigh. "What?"

"Just hungry."

"There's a power bar," she admitted. "I was gonna save it till morning, but if you're hungry..."

"I can wait." He wrapped his arms around her waist, she tensed at how cold his hands were through the layers of her clothes, and he murmured an apology.

She inhaled and adjusted to it, her eyes finding the mass blocking their exit in the darkness, and she hoped that tomorrow brought better news. She nuzzled against an already asleep Spencer, wrapping her arms around herself, and she turned her head to rest it on his chest, closing her eyes. She didn't realize how thoroughly exhausted she was, because the moment her eyes closed, she was out.

Outside Abraham decided to keep watch, letting the others sleep wrapped up in blankets, and he spotted movement and a flashlight. It was Eugene—and Tara! He sped over to lend him a hand with her unconscious body, and together they gently laid her down on the gurney, keeping her head elevated. Abraham looked her over for any wounds while Eugene once more checked her pulse, and it was steady. She had no wounds, only some bruises, but she'd be fine.

"Do you know what happened to her?" Abe inquired, covering her with a few blankets to keep her warm.

"No, she hasn't been lucid."

"Where did you find her?"

"In an office, in the far corner. She might have crawled there or was thrown there from the blast of the explosion. I can't say. She doesn't appear to have any head injuries, but I'm no doctor. Denise would have to check."

"And she will."

Eugene studied Abraham for a moment. "Shouldn't they be back by now? If they weren't captured, and I highly doubt two as skilled as them could be easily killed, what's stopping them from coming back?"

"I don't know." He glanced at Tara. "But for her sake, for Rosita's and Spencer's...you need to get some sleep. I'll take watch."

"You mean we'll take it." Eugene corrected. "Two is better than one against unknown odds."

Abe chuckled. "Two is better." He strolled out of the room. "Let's hope we can bring Daryl and Maggie and Denise back in one piece. Or they'll have one pissed off pregnant lady at their doorstep."

"That's an understatement."

"Yes, it is."

– – –

The fire burned brightly that night, a few women sat around the fire to feed it and to turn over the boar they'd caught for dinner, and a few exchanged patrols. Their hostages were tied together around the trunk of a nearby tree, away from any warmth, left in the cold chill of the coming winter. The women had squirmed and struggled to break free, but even that resistance was beginning to die, and only frail glances were left. The man had been unconscious for too long, but he was still alive. It was good. It pleased Pentaghast. They did not want to go searching again. Her wrath and impatience were truly a fearsome thing to behold. And to be the one they were directed at was a final sight for many.

"Do you think he's okay?" Denise studied Daryl. He was tied up away from them, his head bowed, his feet sprawled out in front of him, his body lying against the ropes that bind him. He hadn't moved or woken up, and they were worried about him. The force that bitch used to knock him out with wasn't enough to kill him, but it was enough to leave him in darkness for nearly two days. They checked on him but said nothing to Maggie or Denise. They had no clue how he was, or if he was alive. He could be turning, and they wouldn't know.

"I hope so." Maggie turned her head in an attempt to look at Denise, but there was no advantage. They were bound on either side of an oak tree, and it's trunk was thick. She couldn't even see Denise, only hear her. "Are you okay?"

"No, but I will be when we get out of this."

"Won't we all."

This group consisted of mostly women, only a few men on patrol and Maggie didn't understand why they were so few men, and why they avoided all contact with their leader. Maggie caught her name once. It was Pentaghast. She was a small woman who wielded a lot of command. The people in her group feared her. Maggie could tell before she was here at camp with them all. They all walked as though they were trying not to make too much noise, trying not to draw attention to themselves, and when she spoke to them directly, they flinched. They were all submissive to her. They were no turning them against her. She found their weaknesses and had exploited them for her own gain. She ruled over them with an iron fist. She was no leader. She was their warden as well as Maggie's, Denise's and Daryl's.

The bitch herself emerged from her tent, combat boots stomping all the way as she approached Daryl, kneeling down beside him to grasp his chin and lift his head upward. Maggie couldn't tell what was happening, but she could see something that belonged to her dangling from Pentaghast's slender neck. She dug her heels into the dirt and clenched her teeth, knowing her rings were around that bitch's neck. They'd taken them off her finger by force when they entered this camp, tossing them to Pentaghast like they were a trophy, and now she was wearing them as though they were her own. Maggie was going to rip them off her neck the moment she could.

The women by the fire stood suddenly, Maggie looked up when they bent over to untie them, and she groaned when they jerked her to her feet, holding her already injured arm behind her back once more. The other did the same to Denise, and they pushed them over to where Pentaghast and Daryl were, forcing them down onto their knees to listen.

Pentaghast squeezed his jaw. "You will tell me."

He glowered at her.

"Such resistance." She clamped her fingers down tighter on his jaw, he grimaced as her nails dug in, and she chuckled. "Well, I found something of yours. I think I'll keep it."

Daryl assumed she meant the crossbow or perhaps his knife, but when she lifted up the black and white sonogram, he jolted. She went through his jacket. She found the sonogram, and she was going to keep it?

"Oh, I can just see the questions brewing." She released his jaw with such force that his head smacked against the tree. "Carol? Hmm, pretty name. Which one is she? The brunette? The blonde? Or did I already make ashes of her?"

"What?" He paled. Ashes?

"I ask the questions here." She rose and neared Maggie. "She wore rings. Did you present them to her? Is she Carol?" She gently caressed Maggie's neck with her fingers, Maggie jerked away, but Pentaghast grasped what short hairs she could and kept her still, a cry spilling from Maggie's lips. "Is she?"

When Daryl didn't respond, Pentaghast moved to stand in front of the woman and slammed her boot into her stomach. Maggie sputtered and gasped as pain rolled through her, but she scarcely had time to register the first kick as another came and then another. She screamed, two women coming to hold her shoulders to keep her upright, and Pentaghast brought her leg back for one final strike.

"Maggie!" Daryl lurched forward. "Stop it! You leave her alone!" He was growling, his eyes searing, and Pentaghast smiled back at him.

"Maggie." She lowered her leg. He was too breathing heavily from rage to say anything, not that she would have given him the chance. "Not Carol then." She walked over to Denise and inhaled. "And this one?"

"Not Carol," he quickly answered. "Denise."

She grinned, but still brought her leg back and slammed it into Denise's torso, Denise cried out, and Pentaghast gave a spin and bashed her other foot into the same spot, knocking Denise to the ground. "Do not ever keep me waiting." She waved towards the women who held Maggie and Denise, and they dragged them back to the tree, binding them.

"You bitch." Daryl bared his teeth and wrestled against his bindings.

"Don't worry. You'll get to come out and play soon enough." She leaned down. "I don't think you'll like it very much, though."

"I'm gonna kill you."

"I'm going to find Carol and kill her," she whispered. "I'll bring you back the baby after I carve it out of her." She untwisted the cap to a syringe.

He hissed. "Touch her, and—"

She plunged the needle into his neck and injected him with its contents, standing up as he blacked out once more. "Move him into my tent. Keep an eye on those women. I don't want to be interrupted."

"Of course."

"Yes, Pentaghast."

She turned her gaze back towards her tent and narrowed her eyes. It'd been months, and now they had finally found some people. Healthy people who likely had a camp, a home. She was going to find it, take it and slaughter every man, woman and child within its walls. Perhaps even cage "Daryl" there. She could always find ways for him to be useful.

––

Glenn and Francine had spent nearly two days tracking down the group that had taken three of theirs and killed two. They were camped out in a field with a massive fire, no fear of luring in walkers or people by the blaze of that fire, and they were well armed. Daryl was nowhere in sight, not even a hint of him lingered in the camp. Unlike the women. They had Maggie and Denise tied up around a tree, both of them were hardly moving and breathing oddly, slumped against the ropes.

"Maggie." He inched forward unknowingly, and Francine caught him. "We have to get to them, but we're gonna need more than just two people."

"We should check and see how many people they have before we bring ours in."

He nodded, and he ran his eyes over the number of tents and people wandering around outside and on guard. His eyes kept finding Maggie slumped against the ropes that bound her, and he tightened his grip on the tree beside him. He would get her out of there, Denise and Daryl too, and these people wouldn't hurt any of them again. They wouldn't follow them back to Alexandria. There would be no path for them to follow. They could get their people and get out.

Daryl might have other plans, and likely Abe did too, but the goal was to rescue their people. He would keep to that goal. He'd get them out, and they'd go home. They'd go home and buried their dead.

– – –

Daryl roused with a pounding headache and a chill nestling on his skin. He found himself tied down, the red and gold of a tent above and around him aglow with morning light, and he couldn't move. For a moment he feared she'd paralyzed him, but it would appear the drug was still wearing off. He could wriggle his toes, but not feel the movement. It'd wear off, and when it did...

"Look at you." A voice from the corner of the tent purred. "All bound and pretty like a perfect Christmas present."

I ain't your fucking Christmas present, lady, he wanted to bark, but his mouth wouldn't comply.

She chuckled at the confusion on his face. "Quite the drug, isn't it? No movement, no voice, no control. You're as helpless as a baby." She approached him slowly, her hand extended outward. "If you're wondering how your friends are, don't bother. There's no point."

He hoped he was glaring. He truly did.

"But I do think the blonde has a broken rib, and Maggie...well, she isn't looking good at all. Internal bleeding, perhaps? I'm no doctor. I couldn't say." She smirked. "Not that it matters, they'll be out of their misery soon enough."

Her hand brushed over his hip and up his torso to rest on his shoulder, and it was only then that Daryl realized he was naked from the waist up. That was why he could feel the cold air blowing against him. Well, not fully feel, but moderately. He wasn't clothed. At all. What the fuck was she going to do? Torture him? Kill him? It didn't matter. He couldn't say anything. Hell, he couldn't, so what was her endgame here?

"Have you figured it out yet?" Her eyes widened slightly, and she walked around his head to the other side of him. "I suppose not. Men don't really think it can happen to them, after all. There were so few warnings in the world for men and for boys. It's no surprise your masculine brain hasn't worked it out yet."

He narrowed his eyes, and the lids actually complied.

"Well, Daryl, let me explain." She set her hand beside his hip and hoisted herself up and over to straddle him. She wore only a black t-shirt, and the pieces fell into place in his mind. "I'm going to rape you, Daryl, and from this...I'll take your seed and produce a child of my own. If you're lucky and tell me kindly where you live, perhaps it'll be the first of many of my children fathered by you."

His breathing began to escalate at her words.

"I won't let anyone survive, of course, certainly not the bitch who is already carrying your child, but you got that when I said I'd carve her baby out of her." She began to unbuckle his pants, her eyes moving to his as a mischievous and an almost childlike smirk crossed her scarlet lips. "Are you wondering why? Or perhaps is all that blood just...rushing somewhere else? A hot young thing mounts you...so why wouldn't it?"

She was right, he realized, feeling like an idiot for only now seeing that. She was young. Too young to be doing this type of thing. She had to be in her early twenties. She was a kid. He didn't understand why she was doing this. She was so stern and strict and callous to her people, but right now there was almost a childlike innocence about her. The way her hair fell over her face, her smile albeit creepy did almost bubble with childlike enthusiasm. It disturbed him. How did she end up like this? Why was she doing and saying these things? What the hell had this world or the other done to her?

"Oh, don't look at me like that. You're reminding me of my father." She tossed his belt to the floor and shifted to pull his jeans down. "Not the image I want in my head right now."

"You have scars," she suddenly announced after a moment of silence, her eyes not meeting his. "They tell an interesting story. Maybe you can tell me about it one day."

"Unlikely," he strained.

"Oh, you can talk a little. Good." She lifted her head. "And don't say that. We're going to get quite familiar with each other." She leaned up to be hovering over him. "There's nothing you'll be able to hide from me, Daryl. Not after this." She cupped his cheek and kissed him.

––

Rosita woke with a light being shined in her face, she groaned and turned away but hit something solid. Her eyes shot open at the realization that something bright was on her face, but Spencer was still right there. She climbed to her feet to find Abe shining a light in a small opening, and she laughed, shaking Spencer awake.

"Get up." She hurried over and dropped to her knees. "Will it hold?"

"For now." He nodded, reaching his hand in. "Be quick, but very careful."

"Spencer first." She looked up at him. "Go."

"No way. You're smaller. You'll slip right now. I might cause it to become unstable." He nodded his head towards the hole. "Go."

"One of you just come on. We got bigger shit to deal with than this."

Rosita dropped down onto her back and crawled through, Abraham caught her shoulders and hauled her up, and some small rock bits crumbled down. They both urged Spencer to hurry, and once his torso was through, Rosita grasped his arm, and Abe gripped his other arm; and they yanked him out when more of their little doorway began to crumble.

"Thanks, man." Spencer was panting wildly as his shoes barely made it out.

"It's what we do." He grasped his hand and pulled him to his feet. "Now we got another issue."

"Tara...?" Rosita paled. "Is she—?"

"Just fine and ready to kick some ass? Yes."

Rosita turned, but she didn't see her, only a wall of debris. "What the hell?"

"We can slip through here."

They joined the others, Rosita hugged Tara out of sheer joy to see she was all right, and Abe broke down the events that caused the collapse to the three of them. He guided them outside to where Glenn and Francine were readying weapons with the others, and Abraham let Glenn take over to prepare himself for the fight ahead.

"We counted at least thirty in this group. They're well armed, and they know how to move in and out hastily, as they proved here. They have Maggie and Denise, but we didn't get eyes on Daryl. One of them has his crossbow, so we can assume they have him too."

"They're mostly women, though," Francine iterated. "So they might have just killed him. I can't say for sure."

"Why only take them?" Rosita crossed her arms.

"They probably didn't know we were going be here. They likely claimed this hospital as their own then tried to blow it up, because they couldn't have it."

"So, they're the "if I can't have it, nobody can" type of thinkers?" Tara frowned. "Great."

"Yeah, so we need to be careful." Glenn handed Rosita a sniper rifle. "I want you and Abe to watch from afar, fire only if you have to. If they go after any of ours, don't hesitate."

She nodded and accepted it.

"I want Francine, Amber, and Eugene to go in and get the girls out. I'll look for Daryl with Tara." He looked at the remaining members. "I want Spencer to guard the medicine with Tom. Adam, Jenny, I need you to reclaim the truck of equipment and just head back to Alexandria."

"You want us to leave you?" Jenny's nose scrunched in disgust. "We won't."

"You have to get that equipment of there. It's what we came here for. Get it out safely." His eyes bored into hers. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, but I don't like it." She stepped back.

"Spencer, when you hear that truck start, follow after them. We'll take the remaining cars home. All right?"

"It'll be dangerous and heavy, but we have to save our people and protect the future we spend months securing." Francine looked over at Glenn. "We do this together, and we all get to go home."

"If we don't, just imagine the wrath of Carol," Tara mused. "Seriously, though, someone be sure to grab Dixon."

"Kind of the plan," Rosita mused.

"Oh, all I heard from Glenn was "my wife, my wife, my wife, my wife"."

Glenn laughed for the first time since he and Abe had gotten back. "Be serious."

"I will be, but you needed that laugh." She patted his shoulder. "Let's go."

The drive to the camp seemed to fly by. It felt like ages on foot, and they'd traveled over night, but they had cars now. They were ready, long before the engines shut off and the doors shut. They would get them, arm them, and they would all fight to go home. They would worry about Pentaghast and her people later. Surviving was the goal right now.

A the location, Spencer hung back with the rest of the cars while the majority of the group crept onward on foot to reduce the chance of being seen or blowing their plan. Abraham and Rosita climbed to higher ground to get eyes on the group from above, and Francine and Glenn parted ways to begin their takeover.

However, when they arrived at the camp, Maggie and Denise were nowhere in sight and a few tents were on fire. More than seven of the enemy group were lying dead on the ground, one of the men was chewing on the body of another of his group as a walker, and there was no sign of Daryl. Glenn panicked and damn near ran out to find out what the hell had happened, but at the gunfire, he stayed glued to his spot with Tara.

"What the shit?" Tara looked at Glenn. "Did someone beat us to the punch?"

"I have no idea."

Just then Daryl stumbled out of one of the burning tents, half naked, and he fell to his knees. Something was wrong with him, they soon discerned. He couldn't find his footing or properly stand, and he kept falling over. He was acting like a drunk man, a drunk, flailing target in the eyes of their enemies, and Tara and Glenn couldn't just sit back and watch. They had to get him, or he'd be shot by the mysterious and trigger happy fool hiding somewhere in the camp or in the trees. The plan had been shot to shit, so what did it matter?

Yet when they were on their feet and about to jump out of cover, Maggie came out of nowhere and helped him up, holding a machine gun. She was their shooter, their mysterious and trigger happy shooter. She took out another woman who came at them and moved Daryl to safety.

Glenn and Tara moved together, watching for walkers and people, scurrying over to where Maggie had vanished, and at the sound of a hiss by her ear, Tara tensed. Rosita or Abraham had taken out one of the women from this group who was about to catch them by surprise. Tara would have to thank them once they were altogether.

They pushed on and found Maggie and Denise in a defensive position, both of them armed and injured, and they nearly shot at Glenn and Tara, but at them calling out, they lowered their weapons. Maggie smiled at the sight of Glenn and embraced him, and Tara dropped down beside Denise to investigate why her girlfriend was pale and hardly moving. Daryl was still out of it against the tree.

"What happened? Are you all right?" Glenn drank her in, holding her cheeks. "We had a plan. We were going to get you, but...you did this?"

She nodded. "I'll explain later. We need to get out of here."

"We need to get the truck." Denise winced. "They have it. Their... Pentaghast is inside."

"Okay, we'll take it back." Tara smoothed down her hair. "I'll take you to Spencer. He'll get you out of here. I'll double back—"

"No." Glenn shook his head. "Go with Spencer. Tell Abe and Rosita to join us. I gotta get Francine and Jenny."

"I'll get Jenny." Maggie handed him the gun Denise had been using. "You get Francine, have her and Adam take Daryl out of here. He's...been drugged. I can't say for sure what she did to him, but it doesn't look good."

Glenn scrutinized his friend, finding him a hue lighter with some bruises. He wore only his leather vest and his worn jeans. Glenn didn't know how he ended up like that, but they had to get him warm. It was too cold for just jeans and a vest. He didn't even have any shoes on. Glenn didn't like the knots taking up residence in his stomach. Daryl was right to have a bad feeling about all of this, but how right was he? And did Glenn want to find out?

––

Francine stopped her group at the sight of the flames and had them drop low, her eyes finding the truck hidden behind the camp as well as no trace of the women they were there to rescue. She had a feeling Maggie had a hand in this destruction, and it was confirmed when she came out of the shadows to aid a loopy Daryl.

"They saved themselves." Amber smiled. "We should help her with Daryl."

"No." Francine caught her wrist. "Wait, I see someone."

"Who?" Amber followed her gaze. "Their leader?"

"I don't know." She'd only caught a glimpse of the woman. "I'm going to find out. I want you guys to help them with Daryl."

"You want us to split up?" Eugene inquired.

"Yeah, all bad plans involve splitting up, but I'm faster and quieter than both of you, so just do what I said, please." She hurried after the figure before they could even argue.

"You heard the woman." Amber moved into position, waiting for the right moment to run over to where she'd last seen Maggie, and Eugene bent down beside her, his eyes following Francine.

Amber fled over to where the others were, meeting the end of Glenn and Maggie's weapons before they saw her face, and Glenn told her to help Tara. Tara held Denise's weight as she climbed to her feet, Tara instructed her to stay close and to help Daryl back to the cars. Amber turned to ask Eugene for a hand since Daryl was pretty much a human muscle, but he wasn't behind her. He hadn't followed her over.

"He went after Francine?" Glenn exclaimed. "Who chased after this Pentaghast?"

"I guess so."

"We need to hurry." Maggie helped Amber lift Daryl to his feet. "Can you take him?"

"No, she can't, but you both can." Glenn stripped her of the machine gun and handed it to Denise. "I don't know if you'll need it, but Daryl needs two people to lift him. I'll draw some of their fire and get to Francine. I should have some backup already trying to get to the truck."

"Glenn—"

"We don't have time to argue." He placed a rough kiss to her forehead and flew off in the direction Amber had pointed.

"If we want to help Glenn," Tara remarked, "we need to get to Abe and Rosita. They have the guns."

"Then let's hurry. I want to give Pentaghast a piece of my mind." And that wasn't even the half of it.

They carried their wounded to where Spencer and the cars were parked, waiting, and Tara climbed in with Denise, adjusting her as well as she could. Daryl was dumped into the truck of the SUV with a blanket, Amber jogged around to the driver's seat, and Maggie pulled Tara away to ask where Rosita and Abraham were. Tara decided it would be easier to lead the way rather than explain where they were.

Meanwhile, Francine and her shadow found Pentaghast in the back of the truck. Francine shoved Eugene back against a tree when he tried to get a better view, and Francine sent him a stare that said let me handle this. Pentaghast was pacing the length of the truck with no weapons whatsoever, and given her lack of clothing—a black tee and combat boots—there was no place for her to hide any weapons. Good.

Francine started to take aim to just kill her when her eyes closed in on the grenade in her hand. "Oh, shit." She dropped her gun and charged inside the truck to tackle Pentaghast. It was impulsive in every sense of the word, but it was her first instinct. If she lived, she wouldn't regret it. If she didn't, then she couldn't regret it.

Pentaghast was stronger than she looked in all of her five foot nine glory and almost instantly overpowered Francine. Crazy did wondrous things to strength after all. She dug her knees into Francine's forearms, her hands around her neck, choking her, and she could feel Francine kicking underneath her. Frantic, desperate kicks that just couldn't reach her to even hurt her. She could have laughed had she not been so fucking furious. She told them to watch those women, and what did they do? What did they allow to happen here? She would kill them all over again if she could. Cowards as they were scattered to the wind, and whoever else was still alive was taken out by that short haired bitch.

She bared her teeth as Francine began to fade. "You think you can take whatever you want? Even goods that aren't yours? I marked that hospital. It was mine. He was mine. All of it was mine. You'll all die for taking what was mine."

Francine was on the verge of blacking out when a gun fired and Pentaghast's blood splattered onto her face. Pentaghast whipped her head around to find Eugene standing there, and she hissed, standing up and pulling the pin out, letting it drop onto the floor of the truck. She turned to face him, holding the grenade in her hand, still holding down the lever.

Eugene didn't lower the gun or make any move to not shoot her again. He held his ground, and he didn't waver as she seethed. Resistance. She didn't care much for it, and it was all Eugene was showing her.

"You want to be a hero then? The one that dies in vain?"

"Maybe I'll die, but you'll definitely die too." He held his ground. "Heroes only exist in books."

"Then why do villains exist in reality? Where's the balance?" She loosened her hand somewhat, he pointed his gun at her, and she chuckled. "Oh, the conversations I'd like to have with you."

He said nothing.

Her brow twitched. "I've had enough of this. "Do you think I won't?" She walked towards him, he backed up, and she smirked. "Coward."

"I may be, but you have a severe lacking in perception."

She tilted her head to the side, eyes closed to slits, and Francine grabbed her hand, snatching away the grenade carefully. She kicked the girl into the side of the truck, she fell to the ground, groaning, and Francine urged Eugene over, and he put the pin back in place.

"What do we do with this?" Francine's heart was racing in her chest.

"Let me handle it. I'll dispose of it properly. You should take the truck back to the others."

"What do you think we should do about her?" She cast her gaze to where the girl should have been lying passed out, but there was no one there. "What?" She scanned the area to try and find her, but she was nowhere to be seen. "Where did she go?"

"I was too preoccupied with this to notice."

"Me too. Damn it. She used it as a diversion." She stomped her foot and huffed. "Okay, you dispose of that, and we'll take the truck back." She had no clue what she was going to tell the others about this. Fuck. She should have just shot the bitch when she wasn't looking. A coward's kill, but at least she'd be dead and not a threat. An unknown threat at that.

– – –

They headed out that night with their dead. Spencer and Rosita lead the way with Abe and Francine in the truck, and Amber and the others behind them. Maggie and Glenn drove the SUV with Daryl still out in the back, and Tara had an unconscious Denise in her arms. She smoothed her hair down, listening to and feeling her breathing, and she kissed her forehead tenderly.

Denise had either a broken or bruised rib from Pentaghast's kicks. They didn't want to see her in pain, so Maggie and Glenn used some of Enid's study session against Denise to knock her out. She was in agony, and they couldn't stand to see her like that the entire drive home. Tara distracted her, Maggie injected her, and she'd been out ever since. They would apologize later. If she wasn't so stubborn and hadn't insisted she was fine so many times they might not have resorted to such underhanded methods, but she insisted too much to be okay.

Daryl hadn't woken up since they departed the woods, but his pulse was steady and strong. With some work, Abe and Glenn managed to clothe him, so now he had a less likely chance of catching his death back there. He was still bundled up like a burrito, but just in case. It was better to be safe than sorry.

Glenn turned to Maggie now that everyone else was asleep and whispered, "How did it happen?"

She rehashed the whole caught off guard and death of Morris and Lee then went into what happened with Pentaghast. "She kicked me, over and over in the stomach, tryin' to kill the baby."

"Oh, God."

"Daryl told her who we were, and since the sonogram clearly said Carol, she let it drop after she kicked Denise twice. I think the heel of her boot hit her rib." She gazed back on Tara and Denise. "She'll be okay once we get her home and looked at. We have the equipment now."

"We do."

Maggie smiled a little. "You wanna know how I managed to get their guns?"

"Just a little bit." He smirked back at her.

"I played dead. I knew if they thought I'd bled to death with internal injuries, they would have tried to have gotten rid of me. Walker me. When one drew close to see if I was dead or not, I caught her ankles and knocked her down. It was a challenge to wrestle her with only my legs, but I guess havin' a brother trained me for that."

"I guess so."

"Anyway, I got her knife and undid my bindings, then Denise's. I killed a few, but...Pentaghast killed most of them herself. She went...ballistic after seeing us free. She even lit the tents on fire. She didn't want anything to survive, at least nothing we could have used. She's a special kind of crazy." She frowned. "I don't want to encounter her again."

"With luck, we won't have to." She lowered her eyes, and he noticed. "What is it? Is it your arm? Do you need anything?"

"No, no. The pills are still in affect. It's just... She took my rings." She showed him her naked hand. "I wasn't able to get 'em back."

He reached over and laced his fingers through hers, kissing her swollen ring finger. "I have you. You're in one piece. That's all that matters."

Her smiled widened. "I know, but I liked them"

"I'll find another one."

"It won't mean as much, but you're right. We made it. We have medicine and equipment. We're in one piece. We're gonna see Enid." She clutched his hand. "We're goin' home."

"We're going home." He beamed at her. "I love you."

She laughed softly. "I love you too." She leaned over and kissed his temple, not wanting to distract his attention from the road. "I'm gonna try and sleep a bit, okay?"

"Okay. Good night."

"You're gonna need this." She released his hand so he could drive correctly and yanked a blanket up from the floor of the backseat. She stretched as best she could and lied back, her eyes falling on his face one more time before dragging shut.

– – –

Pentaghast roused outside the hospital, and she inhaled deeply, pushing herself up to find those had survived in her group. She stood up, a stinging erupting in her skull and in her shoulder, and she pushed it back, walking around to the back entrance of the hospital to find the cache she'd hidden back when she'd marked this place as hers.

She dressed and armed herself, her eyes traveling up the side of the hospital to find vines covering her marker. She scoffed and ripped them down, though they had already done their damage. She threw the vines down and stormed off to round up her troops, her newly acquired crossbow fitting loosely on her back. They had to get back to their camp, and they were days away from it. She'd have some explaining to do, and it was quite the story. One she personally wasn't going to let rest.

As they dove deeper into the woods, the only trace of them left behind were the words Claimed written on the side of the hospital, vines still covering the first and last letters.


	30. All It Takes

"Hey, look who's awake." Glenn smirked at Daryl, handing him a bottle of water. "Finally. You had us worried."

He grunted and accepted it, blinking at the light, his tongue thick. "What happened?"

"You don't remember?" Maggie studied him.

"Pentaghast, the camp, her hurtin' y'all," he recited, "but it's fuzzy after. I just remember...cold ground."

"You were out of it. She had you heavily drugged." Maggie urged him to drink and listen more. "We got out of her camp, saved the equipment and the medicine. We're all okay."

Glenn lowered his eyes. "Except for Lee and Morris."

Maggie nodded slightly and found Daryl's eyes. "We've been on the move ever since. It's been about a day. We're stoppin' to scout some, find some supplies, syphion for gas. That type of thing."

"Good idea." He twisted the bottle close.

"It is, especially since we don't know where we are." Glenn nudged his wife with his elbow lightly. "We kind of drove blindly through the night and early morning, but Denise is working with Eugene to find a route home."

"And the others?"

"Well, Abraham, Tom, Spencer, and Amber are passed out in the backseats of various cars." Maggie stuffed her hands into her pockets. "They're completely wiped."

"Can't blame 'em."

"Not with the driving we did," Glenn agreed. "Francine—and Eugene once he joins her—will be searching a couple cars ahead, Rosita and Jenny are on watch, and we're about to follow a trail that might lead to a small store with Tara. We're not sure, but we're hopeful."

"Why? Is there somethin' we need?"

Maggie nodded. "It's personal, but we might find other things the group needs."

"Personal?" He didn't want to know. "Okay. I'll...try and gather my bearings."

"Good idea." Glenn chuckled at his attempt to stand. "Do it slowly. I'm here, if you need me."

"I'll be good." He cleared his throat. "Just gonna sit here a minute."

"Okay. I'll get you another water, talk to Denise on my way back." Glenn skirted around Maggie towards Denise and Eugene.

"I should see if we have any snacks for you." Maggie moved hair from her face. "It can only help you at this point."

"Hey, wait." Daryl caught Maggie before she wondered off to find him food. "Here, this is yours."

She gasped at the sight of her rings and grinned at him. "How...? You got them back? With all of that was goin' on?" She hugged him. "Thank you, Daryl."

"You're welcome." He certainly was close enough to her to take them back.

"I'll be back." She hesitated and met his eyes sorrowfully. "We'll miss the appointment. It's four or more days back, and we've burned through a week already."

"I know." He averted his eyes.

"She still has the sonogram, doesn't she?" He nodded. "Well, you'll have a new one waitin' for you at home."

"Yeah."

She set a hand on his shoulder. "There'll be plenty of next times."

He smiled a little. "Thanks, Maggie." He locked his gaze in hers. "Really."

She squeezed his shoulder with a soft smile and walked off to get him something to eat, he dragged a hand through his hair and finished off the water, and the memories of what happened that night began to bubble up in the back of his head. He didn't want to know about it. When he did, he wanted to find her and destroy her. Not kill—destroy. She not only threatened Carol and their unborn child but the whole of Alexandria. She would pay for making those threats if he ever saw her again, and unfortunately he had a feeling he would see her again. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but one day in the future when he least expected it, he'd see that red-haired cunt.

He rubbed his neck and turned his head to the side, grateful to be able to move and feel his entire body. He was damn lucky. He knew Maggie would never know how much he meant that thank you. That small little warrior did more for him in one moment than he'd ever done for her probably ever. He wouldn't be able to find a way to make it up to her, but maybe one day. He'd owed her one day.

He squinted as he raised his gaze to the sky, smiling a little at the thought of being home. They were five days out? Six, maybe? It'd be an impossibly long drive, but once it was through, he'd get to see the baby, see Carol. He couldn't wait to see her, to embrace, to burn away the feel of Pentaghast's hands on his body. He could do that with a shower too, but he knew Carol would get the feeling of what she intended to do off his skin and out of his mind whereas the shower would only wash it off. He wanted it seared off, and he prayed Carol's embrace could do that.

––

Daryl wanted to tag along with the trio to find this store, but he didn't have the energy just yet, so when Eugene joined Francine, he partnered up with Denise. She had a broken or bruised rib, and he felt funky, so why not partner up? It would be easier for him right now to hang around with her than wandering around, looking for supplies. Although he was a little miffed with himself, and Denise was picking up on it as they continued to map out their way home.

Eugene and Francine were able to get a bit more gas, found a small first aid kit and a couple bottles of aspirin. There were also a few items of clothing that could be salvaged. They needed to be washed and then likely re-washed, but they were in good condition considering. Francine found a suitcase of children's clothing in the truck of one of the cars, and there were a few items for an infant. There was no blood or broken glass in or around the car, so perhaps they made it. Or more likely they didn't, not out there, not with an infant in tow.

Rosita and Jenny had switched spots at the front and rear of the line of cars, Jenny hadn't seen anything much, and she hoped it stayed that way after this run. Rosita, on the other hand, wanted that bitch to show herself. She wanted to make her pay for what she did to their team, and she wanted to make her pay for any threats she made on their family. She could smell the crazy on that one, and she didn't want that rat following them back home or stumbling upon Alexandria one day. She wouldn't see the inside of that gate. The last thing she'd seen was the gate before she or Sasha blew her head wide open with a long distance shot to the temple. Their sniper rifles weren't for show. Rosita would be sure to use it if that bitch showed herself ever again.

Glenn, Tara and Maggie were trekking through the woods to find the small store they'd seen an advertisement for. It might come up dry, but they had to give it a shot. They wouldn't be returning home empty-handed, but what was a little more? They wouldn't push their luck. They barely escaped that nutjob's camp with their lives, but they might find something they didn't know they needed. Perhaps more food, which was always a plus, or perhaps ammo, again a plus. Or maybe they'd find something else. Gas? Clothing? Tools? It didn't matter as long as they could make use of it, and they likely would be able to. If they couldn't, Eugene could. Or Carol. She was pretty crafty herself these days. They'd just have to find out, and as they ducked their way through branches too thick to chop through, they saw the store; its window peeking through the kudzu which had overgrown and pretty much swallowed the building. It was almost beautiful. Nature reclaiming what has rightfully been its all along.

Back at camp the sun was beginning to set, those who were sleeping were beginning to rouse, and Rosita and Jenny were ready to head out. Denise and Daryl had finished up the map with a safe route home. They were confident they wouldn't run into Pentaghast or her people, and they'd be home in a week. They hoped it'd be within a week, but they had gotten sidetracked escaping that nut. They didn't think of the correct path out of there, just the swiftest, and now they had to backtrack to the road that lead home. It'd be okay, though. They were alert. They were mostly well-rested, and they were together. They had what they came out there for, and they wouldn't let anybody—anybody—stop them again.

"Are you all right?" Denise finally asked when Abraham came to collect the map and retrieve a bottle of water to wash the taste out of his mouth.

"Not really." He picked at the console between them.

"Do you want to talk to me about it?" She tilted her head. "I'll listen to whatever it is. If it involves this run or Pentaghast—I'm here."

He shook his head. "It's just... I told Carol I'd bring somethin' home for the kid, and I didn't. I don't got anythin'. I missed her appointment, and I didn't find anythin' for the kid."

Denise actually laughed. "That's what you're worried about? Not having an apology gift?"

"No. No, it ain't an apology gift. It's just...a gift, all right? We've been gone a long while, and they gotta be worried. I just wanna give her somethin' to... I dunno, break the ice?"

"Well, it's your lucky day, Daryl." Maggie popped up by the window. "We have a lot of things you can give Carol."

"What do you mean?"

"We hit the jackpot in baby stuff," Glenn explained. "That small store? It was local owned, and I guess they had a baby shower or were planning a baby shower—I can't really say. But we found a lot of stuff in the back room for a baby."

"Not to mention some medicine and self-adhesive wrap and some essential oils." Tara placed to loaded bags into the back. "Also quiet a bit of stuff for construction."

"We left some of the more useless items behind." Maggie handed her bags to Glenn, who loaded up the trunk in the car in front of the SUV. "But if we need them, we know where to find them."

"Let's hope we don't. It's a long drive out here." Denise pointed out, "And I don't care to relive this."

"Me either." Glenn closed the trunk. "So, let's hit the road. It's gonna be a long drive back."

– – –

And it was a long, taxing drive back. It took a total of five nights and six days. They were all grumpy and ready to shower and sleep in an actual bed. They were eager to take up their every day responsibilities and shifts and patrols. They were keen on not being shoved into a car with someone they'd been inside a car with for the past five nights. They had learned a lot about each other, some would say too much about the others, and they were just done with this trip.

The drive home was pretty slow. They encountered only a small patch of walkers, Rosita and Daryl and Abe made quick of it while the others slept or remained in the driver's seats. There was not even a whisper of a human threat, and Daryl kept a sharp eye out. Rosita as well. They were both planning on coming back to try and track Pentaghast down, but the trail would likely be dead. Animals or walkers will have contaminated the campsite, so there would be little point. But one day...they or she would cross her or their path, and it wasn't going to be pretty. Rosita would ensure that, and Daryl made a vow that it would end with her death. Because if she didn't die, it wouldn't end, and he wouldn't have his child be in the same world as that cunt, so clearly she was the one who had to go.

Daryl pulled the truck to a stop and rested his arms carefully around the wheel, placing his head on them, and he heard Denise chuckle in the seat beside him. He didn't have the energy to even glare. He was exhausted, ready for his own bed, for a hot cooked meal and a steaming shower. God, he longed for those things.

The gate was yanked opened, they pulled inside, and they all bolted from their cars to rejoice in being home. The others emerged from their house as the team who'd been gone for two weeks stretched or helped an injured friend out of their seat.

Rick came off the steps and did a count, seeing two wrapped bodies on the back of the car, and he pushed a hand through his hair, smiling at the sight of the group. They were back. They were mostly in one piece, and they were home.

Daryl closed the door to the truck, jogging around to help Denise out, though Tara said she had it. He still helped. He walked through the various cars and made sure they were all right, especially the ones who had injuries, and he came to a stop by the lead car, his eyes narrow at the morning sun glaring off the sidewalk. A breath escaped his chapped lips in a visible white puff, and he inhaled the scent of his home. There was no place he'd rather be.

His once narrow eyes widened at the sight of Carol. He didn't know why he was so stunned to see her. He'd seen her every day for what felt like a lifetime. It wasn't surprising. It wasn't astonishing or earth-shattering, but those were the emotions that coursed through him at the sight of her. She was all bundled up in a winter coat and jeans, and he thought she looked smaller than he remembered. He wasn't honestly sure. When was the last time—

His thoughts were cut off when she ran towards him, he stumbled forward, but only got that one step in before she was in his arms—or perhaps he was in her arms. It really didn't matter, because once her small hands were digging into his back and her head was nuzzling into his chest, that was all that mattered. She was all that mattered, and his heart felt so painfully full as he wrapped his arms around her. He dropped his head onto her shoulder and buried a grin there. He felt her begin to tremble, and he knew she was crying. Be it her emotions from the pregnancy, or her worry due to their delay, he decided it didn't matter, because he would ease her sorrow. He always would, because he loved her. He loved her. He loved her. It didn't matter if she didn't love him back, not right now. Right now all he could feel was his love for her and his need to console her. The rest would come later.

"I guess we're not getting their help," Rick commented to Glenn about unloading the trunks and truck.

"You're not even getting our help," Glenn replied. "We have a couple wounded, so I'll take them to see Enid. Denise can instruct her, but she might be fine on her own. I'm also pretty sure I'm going to pass out the second I see a bed, so...yeah. Good luck."

Rick chuckled and squeezed his shoulder. "Get some rest. You deserve it."

"You have no idea." Glenn glanced over at his wife, who was opening the back of the truck and instructing those who came to help.

"Maggie! Glenn!"

Glenn turned in time to find Enid barreling over to them, and he was nearly tackled to the ground by her embrace. Rick caught his shoulders so they didn't fall to the ground, and he steadied them before taking over for Maggie who rushed over to embrace both of them. She smoothed down Enid's hair and kissed her temple, remembering all the reasons why this run was important to her, and she felt her eyes burn. She wasn't sure exactly why, but there were many reasons: Pentaghast, Lee and Morris, returning home after being gone for so long, the success of their run. It was a combination of all of those things and seeing their daughter again. Of being with her family again.

"I'm so glad you're back." Enid held them both tightly. "I missed you."

"We missed you too." Glenn rubbed her back. "And you're not coming next time."

She laughed. "We'll see."

Maggie smiled and rested her chin on Enid's head, gazing at her husband, and she cupped his cheek. "We'll talk about it."

He didn't like it, but he didn't say that. "Okay."

Enid pulled away and wiped her eyes. "So, you have wounded? Where's Denise? We'll uh, get to work."

"Denise actually needs work." Glenn nodded towards the clinic. "Tara's already taken her to the clinic."

"Okay. Just bring in any others. I'll go check on her." She jogged off towards the clinic.

Abraham called back to Glenn to lend him a hand since Daryl had yet to move away from Carol, and Spencer and Francine were already helping him, and Maggie had a messed up arm. Then to his surprise, the weight on his end shifted. He looked over as Sasha grasped the machine, sending him a welcome back smirk. He chuckled, and they moved together towards the clinic.

––

"I'm sorry." That was the first thing that came out of Daryl's mouth. "I'm sorry." He wasn't entirely sure what he was sorry for, but he was very sorry. He couldn't pin it all on the missed appointment, but he had a feeling whatever else he was sorry for, she understood.

She chuckled and lowered her hands from his shoulder blades. "Don't be."

He slowly released her and held her elbows, running his eyes over her. "How are you?"

"I'm better than I've been in a long time." She dried her eyes and smiled at him. "So is the baby."

"Oh, yeah?" Daryl smiled back at her.

"Yeah, you just missed her kickin'," Rick teased.

"What?" His brows shot up. "Her? It's a girl? She kicked? The hell did I miss?"

He snorted and busted out laughing at the panicked and envious expressions burning across Daryl's face. "No. We—we don't know the sex, and no, it didn't kick. She's not far enough along. She Carol, not she the baby."

"You're an asshole." Michonne roughly shoved a bag into his arms. "I told you about teasing him."

"What? You didn't see his face." He adjusted the bag in his arms. "And it's his own fault. He's late."

"They never said when they'd be back."

"She's right." Carol grasped Daryl's hand. "But they're back now, so it doesn't matter. We have a lot to unload, so we ought to get to work."

"We?" Daryl frowned. "There's nothin' light enough for you to handle."

"Medicine. I'll help Maggie organize it in the clinic." She loosened her grip on his hand. "We'll talk later. We need to unload the cars and put away what needs to be put away."

Daryl gripped what few fingers of hers he could before she slipped away and headed to the clinic.

"Okay, lover boy," Michonne broke into his thoughts before he could have any, "come and help us. You can rest when we're done."

His eyes lingered on Carol, but he nodded. She wanted to talk to him, and it was important enough that it could wait. His heart wasn't sure if it was thrilled, mortified, or a weird mixture of both, but he was excited. Excited to see her, excited to have this run over with, excited to learn what had happened with the baby. He couldn't wait, so he'd better get a move on it. They had a lot of little shit to unpack.

– – –

Everyone in Alexandria seemed to come out and help them with sorting the myriad of items they had, ranging from medicine to clothing, and Francine and Rosita kept a duffel bag of mysterious items to themselves. They also moved some covered items into Olivia's house. Daryl knew what they were and what they were for, but honestly it was a bit much. Carol couldn't even see them. She was with Enid and Denise organizing the medicine and such. It was still nice of them to try. Carol would be very surprised.

Once everything had been placed, tucked and locked away, they moved the cars around back, and most of the group disperse to get some rest. Glenn headed to the clinic to catch a nap with Enid and to see if Maggie's arm was all right, and Daryl trailed after them to find Carol. Glenn caught Maggie entering the clinic at the same time as them, holding her injured arm, and he frowned. She put a finger to her lips at a sound.

There was laughter, mostly from Denise who was medicated, and Carol was trying to get her to stop laughing, but she was giggling herself. So was Enid. The three of them exchanged a look and decided to creep up on them.

"Stop it. That's awful." Carol was leaning against the counter.

"But it does." Enid was smiling. "I bet once it's all formed, it'll look like you and be cute, but it looks kinda of like a lumpy potato."

"It did get something from Tobin then," Denise snickered.

"Okay, now that's awful." Enid giggled. "She's high on pain killers, so ignore her."

"Give it to me." She held her hand out. "And it's not funny."

"Here." She handed it over. "It's kind of a shame that...whatever it's called that does sonograms was damaged on the trip. We could have shown the baby to Daryl."

"Eugene might be able to fix it, but it's all right. It's what Carson's for."

"Will when you start to show?" Enid inquired. "You have a little...roundness to your stomach, but I don't know if it's always been there or not."

"You too now?"

"I'm sorry. Was that rude? I was just curious. I've never really been around a pregnant woman."

"No, it's okay. I can't say when exactly, but soon." She smoothed a hand down her shirt.

"Do you want to know the sex?"

"I don't know. I haven't thought about it." Her hand lingered on her stomach. "I'll see how I feel when Harlan asks me."

"That's a good idea." She met her eyes. "But be a girl or a boy, they'll love the blanket."

"You saw it?"

"You were curled up with it last night, remember?"

She blushed. "Not really. I was too tired."

"Yeah, Michonne and I had to unwrap you first."

"Oh, right." She remembered now. She was dreaming about food, and then Michonne woke her up to tell her dinner was ready. It wasn't what she wanted, but it was still good. She had to figure out how to make homemade icing. She could do the other part of it, but it'd been so long since she'd made icing. She'd have to find replacement ingredients for it. "So, you like it?"

"I do." She smiled. "There'll be no prying it out of the baby's hands."

"Or yours from the sound of it." Maggie entered the room and hugged Carol. "I didn't get a chance to say hey."

"Hi." She smiled. "It's good to see you all."

"Sorry we're so late." Glenn hugged her next. "How's my godkid?"

"Healthy." She released him and presented the sonogram. "I'm in my second trimester."

"What does that mean?" Daryl asked from the doorway.

"I'll tell you about it later," Carol replied. "I need to talk to you about it anyway."

He nodded.

"I can't wait to meet you." Maggie gazed at Carol's stomach. "I'm glad to see you too."

"Don't worry. It's okay to favor...erm, seeing the baby." She crossed her arms. "So, how was the run?"

"Long." Glenn handed the sonogram to Daryl. "We...ran into some trouble, lost Lee and Morris."

"What kind of trouble? Walkers, or...people?" Carol studied them. "Should we be making preparations?"

"No," Daryl lied. "It's nothin' to worry about. We got 'em."

Glenn and Maggie looked at him, he didn't look back at them, and they played along. They talked about what happened on the run until they were too exhausted to keep talking. Enid finally forced Maggie to show her her arm, and Carol slipped back into her jacket, and she left with Daryl as Glenn got comfortable on one of the beds in the back room. They headed home, Daryl's hand finding hers and lacing through her fingers, and she didn't pull away, though her hand was cold so she might be enjoying the warmth.

Once inside they removed their coats, and Carol told him to get washed up. He nodded and nearly rushed to his room, and he heard her following him. He didn't know why until he walked through the door and found his room littered with her things. He blinked and turned to face her.

"Sorry. I—I spent some nights here while you were away." She collected her things.

"Don't be sorry. It's all right."

She smiled a little and met his eyes. "I'll be in the living room. Take your time."

He grabbed fresh clothes and stepped into the bathroom, diving into the shower. He scrubbed off the events of the run, blood and grime running down the drain. He placed his hands other the wall in front of him, bending forward slightly to let the water run over his head, his eyes closed, and he savored the feeling of hot water running over him.

The soap washed away the earth from being held captive, the water relaxed every muscle in his tense body, and the washrag aided the soap's efforts. He scrubbed himself clean until all he could smell was the soap's fresh ocean scent, and it was comforting. It was Carol's soap from her bathroom. She must have spend most of his trip in his bedroom, even moving her toiletries into the bathroom downstairs. She made herself at home in his things while he was away.

He lifted his head, the water gliding across his face, catching on the uplifted corners of his lips, and he dragged a hand through his hair. He layered himself in white foam one more time before rinsing off and drying off. He brushed his teeth while he dried his hair, and he changed into clean clothes. He scanned himself in the mirror and blew out a sigh before he stepped out to find Carol.

He found her in his bedroom instead of the living room, sitting on his bed, and he frowned a little, entering the room, and she turned to face him.

"Hey." It was said with a warm smile. "You look much better. I didn't even have to threaten you this time."

He chuckled. "No, you didn't."

"Come here." She moved over to the other side of the bed, and he drew closer, but he didn't sit. "I don't bite."

"Thought we were gonna talk in the livin' room."

"I changed my mind. Sit. Please."

He lowered himself down onto the bed slowly, his heart sinking at the unknown, and he didn't like how his heart was pounding. It wasn't because he was happy to finally be having this talk. It was out of fear. She didn't seem like she had good news to break to him, and all moisture vacated from his mouth and from his throat. Sadly not his eyes, as they began to sting and fill.

"It's not that late," Carol commented. "It's probably a little past noon, or so."

"Yeah?" He tried to keep the thickness out of his words, but she wasn't looking at him. "Your point?"

"My point is you need some rest." Her eyes drifted over to his, but she didn't acknowledge the tears in his eyes. Her heart did, as it contracted and ached.

"I'm fine. I slept—"

"Not sleep, Daryl—rest. There's a difference, and I can tell something happened out there. Something you don't want me to know about. It's okay. It's your secret, and I won't pry, but you should rest."

"I thought we were gonna talk."

"And we will, but I'd like to talk to you when you feel better."

"Better?"

"Yes, better. Right now, you don't look so good, and I'm worried about you. So since I'm not going to pry, could you please just rest here with me?"

"With you?"

She nodded. "I could use some rest too."

"I got one condition."

"You name it."

"Tell me what happened at the your appointment."

She smiled. "Okay."

He lied down, stretching out and nearly moaning blissfully at the comfort and warmth his bed brought, and Carol chuckled at his expression. He didn't care. He was too comfortable to be bothered by embarrassment, and exhaustion set in rapidly, despite his sleeping the previous night. He rolled over, his head finding her lap, and she didn't make him move so he remained there. His eyelids grew heavy, and he closed them.

Carol covered him with a blanket and weaved a hand through his hair. "The baby's grown some," she told him in a whisper, keeping her word on telling him what had happened with Harlan. As she spoke, he drifted further and further off, his grip on the world fading, and before he slept, he tilted his head.

"Daryl..." Carol blushed when she felt his lips brush against her stomach. She didn't know if that was due to exhaustion or not, but she hadn't expected it. She made out an apology, but he was asleep a second later. She chuckled softly through her nose and smoothed hair down. "Don't apologize. It's okay." She muttered, "I love you."

He nuzzled his face into her leg. "I love you too," he murmured.

She grinned. "I know." She kissed his temple. "Welcome home. We missed you."

They would talk when he woke up. Or likely when they woke up. She did feel better, but her sleep was irregular, and his warmth and his soothing and steady breathing were lulling her to sleep. Those few hours she missed working on the blanket were catching up to her, and she shifted carefully, lying against the pillows as Daryl's arm wrapped loosely around her hip in his sleep. That was all it took—lying in the arms of the man she loved—and she was out like a light.


	31. The First Day Of The Rest Of Your Life

Daryl woke up alone the next morning, feeling groggy from having slept so late, and he groaned softly, pushing himself up. He wondered out of his bedroom, not hearing any movement in the house, and he stretched, popping his back and shoulder.

He stumbled onward, discovering he had the house all to himself. He shoved his feet into his boots and searched for anybody. It was really eerily quiet around the town, and he couldn't see anybody he knew. There were plenty of people wondering the streets with weapons and tools, but he couldn't make out their faces. He wasn't sure if it was his eyes still adjusting or not.

Then it occurred to him how gray it was outside. The sky was gray, the world appeared to be clocked in gray, and it wasn't cold. There was no temperature whatsoever. He wandered through the streets, trying to find Rick or Michonne. He didn't know what was going on, but whatever it was, it wasn't healthy for anybody. Especially him. Maybe he suffered some head trauma he didn't know about.

As he neared the clinic, he heard his feet hitting puddles, but it hadn't rained. Or perhaps he slept so hard he didn't hear a sound. Yet when he looked down, he saw they were not puddles of water rather puddles of blood. Red glistening blood that seemed to glow against the gray of the world. They were also too big and too plenty to belong to one person.

He began to run, his boots staining red with each puddle they found, and soon his pants and boots were soaked, and his eyes learned who the blood belonged to. It was the blood of his family, of the people of Alexandria, as they lied in one massive pile like discard clothes. They were all pale with unnecessary cuts along their bodies and a slit on their temples.

His eyes fell to Carl, who was still alive, on his knees, covered in blood. He wanted to run over and ask what had happened, but the boy stared lifelessly at something—someone—in the pile of bodies. Daryl's pushed on to see what Carl saw, and he wished to God he hadn't.

It was Judith. She was so small among the pile of adults, her little outfit as red as rubies, her belly sliced open, and unlike the others, there was no slit on her forehead. So there she sat...sliced open like an animal, mouth smeared with the blood of another's, ingesting what she could with what few teeth she had. She was left to turn, and there she was. Her once precious face covered in dark veins, her light hair dirty and bloody, her little hands grabbing whatever she could reach, and that disgustingly gentle moan that escaped her lips was all too new and yet so familiar.

Carl moved to sit beside her now, Daryl couldn't open his mouth to ask him what he was doing, and he saw the boy reach for the knife in his back pocket. He couldn't watch this. He couldn't watch Carl kill this form of his baby sister. He couldn't stand here and let him do that.

However Carl threw the knife away...took Judith into his arms as he lifted his head upward to gaze at the sky, his blue eye bright and puffy, and he let them close as Judith bit down on his neck. He didn't groan. He didn't cry out. He just held her closer, rocking her like he did when she was a child, and he sobbed silently while Judith chewed on his neck, awakening the infection inside their bodies.

"Oh, there he is."

He tensed at that voice and turned to find the red-haired cunt herself, wearing the blood of his loved ones proudly, wrapped in a poncho. She was smiling at him, and he reached down, picking up the knife Carl had tossed aside, and he gripped it tightly.

"You really don't want to do that." She fearlessly strolled up to him. "It'd be triple homicide, and I don't think you could live with that." She pushed the poncho back to reveal a heavily pregnant belly.

The knife dropped from his shaking fingers, and he paled, his throat moistening as a wave of nausea coursed through him.

"Don't worry about our boys. They're pretty tough." She rubbed a hand along her stomach. "Just like they're daddy."

"I'm not—"

"Oh, and the bitch who was carrying your child... Don't worry about her either." She moved out of his way to show him what she'd done with her. "The blanket I found with her was cute. I'll keep it for the boys."

Daryl collapsed at the sight of the woman he loved most in this entire fucked up world, and tears filled his eyes. "No, no, no."

She was lying with one hand curled up by her face, her head fallen to the side so her beautiful blue eyes stared at him, revealing every inch of emptiness inside of her now. Her skin was ashen, a dark hue of blue traced her lips and blood splattered her face.

Her body was...mutilated, blood seeping out around her, her shirt tone to pieces, and her belly was sliced wide open. It was overdone, beginning at her collarbone and stopping short of her pelvis, and her hand rested inside of the gape; as if she was trying to hold it together, trying to keep herself together. The baby...wasn't there. It'd been removed, just like Pentaghast said. She'd carved the baby out of Carol, and a few feet away...just out of reach was the baby. The placenta had been cut, the liquids drained around it, and the small little thing was coiled up as thought it were still in the womb. It looked impossibly unreal on the earth, nestled in a small patch of grass.

Pentaghast had sliced Carol open and moved her baby out of reach so they both died alone. Carol never saw her own child, as it was rolled away from her, and those hollow blues cast judgement on Daryl. For what he let happen, for his crime. This was his doing. He led her to this home, and he didn't warn anyone. He didn't protect anyone. Not Carl, not Judith, not the two most vital people in his life—nobody! He was asleep, and she took over. She took everything. Everything that ever meant anything to him.

"Daddy doesn't look so good boys. We'll have to take care of him." She cupped his chin. "And he'll take care of you." Her nails dug into his chin and draw blood. "Or what I'll do to you will be much worse, and you'll live to tell the tale." Her lips neared his to seal the deal.

He jolted and shot up in bed, panting heavily, sweat coating his brow, and he reached for Carol only to find her spot vacant and cold. He panicked and jumped out of bed, and the moment he opened the door a woman entered, and he wrapped his arms around her tightly.

"Daryl." It wasn't Carol. It was Michonne, although she reciprocated the hug and frowned at the dampness on his skin. "What's wrong?"

"Where's Carol?" He didn't let go of her just yet.

"She left this morning." Michonne patted his head gently, like she used to do with Andre. "What's wrong, Daryl?"

"Is Rick here? I need to talk to y'all." He released her. "Now."

"He's having breakfast with the kids. Why don't you wash up? We'll talk when you're out. I'll make you a plate."

"No, this has to come first."

"You look like a mess. If you go out there, it'll worry Rick and Carl, and Judith is sensitive to this kind of thing. You'll upset her. You don't want to do that to a little girl, do you?" She played on his love for the girl, and doubt flooded his eyes. "Just get cleaned up, and we'll get some food in you. Then we'll talk, okay? All three of us."

He did what she asked of him, showering quickly and changing even more rapidly. He took his time with eating, because he didn't want to choke, and he had Judith on his lap the entire time. She was certainly more mobile than he remembered, and she wanted to be with him. She helped herself to the fruit on his plate, playing with it, and Michonne chuckled at the sight of it. Carl too, before he had to head to class.

Once he'd finished eating, he sat them down and told them what happened on the run: Lee and Morris' murderers, the bomb, how Maggie got injured, and all about Pentaghast. He didn't leave out a single detail, including what she may or may not have done to him.

"Oh, my God." Michonne's stomach sank. "You don't know?"

"No." He stood across from where they sat on the couch. "I don't."

Rick inhaled. "Can we find her?"

"I doubt it." He stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Trail's been cold for days."

"So, what? We wait for her to come here?" Michonne was already scowling. "There has to be another option—a better option."

"Like what?" Daryl inquired. "You tell me, 'cause I don't know where to go from here. I really don't. I want to protect Carol and the baby from this bitch, but I don't know how to find her. Let alone where to begin findin' her."

"We can't just wait around." Michonne rose. "I'll talk to Denise and Maggie, see if they know more. They were around her. They might have overheard something."

"I need to talk to Carol," Daryl said. "But let me know what you find out."

"Are you goin' to tell her?" Rick lifted his head to gaze into Daryl's eyes.

"No."

"Why not?" Michonne's scowl deepened. "She deserves to know."

"She's pregnant, and I don't want that kind of stress on her right now. And for all I know, nothin' happened. I don't want her... I just don't think it's the right time."

"There's never a right time for this type of confession," Michonne informed him, "but it is your choice. I'm gonna talk to them, and...then meet Sasha to take over the wall." She set a hand on Rick's shoulder when she walked by.

"You think I should tell her?" Daryl rubbed his jaw and glanced at his friend. "Don't you?"

"It doesn't matter what I think. It's your relationship with her." He hopped up and locked his gaze in Daryl's. "It's a new relationship, and if you want to start it with a secret or a lie, that's up to you. I won't say anythin'. Michonne won't either, if you ask her not to."

He heaved a sigh. "Do you know where I can find her?"

"The empty house. Well, it's more of Morgan's house now, but she'll be there."

"At Morgan's?" His brows furrowed. "Why the hell's she over there?"

"Yoga." That was all he said before he departed.

Daryl frowned and followed Rick out the door, shifting his course towards what was now Morgan's house, and he wasn't sure what to expect. He didn't believe they were seriously doing yoga. He knew Morgan had his morning routine to keep him from brutally murdering everyone, but Carol didn't have that problem. She didn't even like Morgan. They never saw eye to eye, so what the hell happened in the two weeks that he was gone that could have changed that?

He spotted them through the window, Carol was smiling, and Morgan looked a little embarrassed. He didn't know what was going on, but suddenly Carol was hugging him, and Daryl was thoroughly bemused now. He felt a little lost, watching them two of them interact, and he wondered what exactly happened. It didn't look like yoga, that was for sure. Although he didn't know what yoga looked like.

Carol let him go and moved out of Daryl's view, and he stepped forward to try and see her again, and he forgot Morgan was still by the window. And he could see him if he turned, which he did. Morgan waved him in, and Daryl had a feeling he might get chewed out.

"I heard you were back." Morgan showed him in. "I wasn't inside the walls when you came back. I'm glad you're in one piece." His eyes cut over to where Carol was. "I'm not the only one."

Daryl cleared his throat. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." He was trying not to snicker. "You missed the appointment, right? Did you see the sonogram?"

"Uh, no, not yet." He'd forgotten. He barely remember anything about coming home. Hell, he just remembered the gates and Carol's hand in his hair. That rest was a blur. "Did you go with her?"

"Not me. Rick did."

"Why didn't you go? You two seem closer."

"It was an intimate moment. I don't think we're close enough for me to be there." He smiled a little. "I didn't need or deserve to be there."

"And Rick did?" he blurted, not liking his use of intimate. "How just intimate was it?"

"The same as always." Carol joined the two of them. "Morgan just...views it differently."

Daryl blushed slightly. "Oh."

She smiled. "Good morning."

"Good mornin'." He returned her smile, suddenly losing interest in Morgan and his use of the word intimate.

"I'll let myself out." Morgan didn't wait for a reply before peeling out.

"How did you sleep?" Carol studied him, moving closer. "Well? Okay? You need a nap, maybe?"

"Nah, I'm rested. Very...well rested." He ran his eyes over her. "I missed you."

"I missed you." She chuckled and made a face. "We missed you."

"How is the baby? I meant to ask last night."

She blinked. "You did. I told you about the appointment."

He thought back but drew up a blank. "I don't remember."

"Not a thing?"

"Not a thing." He didn't like how upset she looked. "What's wrong? Did I say somethin'? Or do somethin'?"

She lowered her eyes and wrapped her arms around herself. "No. You didn't say anything. You went right to sleep."

"Carol..."

She smiled once more. "I like when you say that."

"Say what? Your name?"

She nodded. "You never say it. At least not to me."

"Do you want me to say your name to you?"

She lifted her head. "You'll definitely be saying my name more, and it'll be just between the two of us."

His previous blush returned with a vengeance, and he stuttered, making her laugh. "Wait..."

"Sit, please." She sat on the couch and inhaled to prepare herself for this time. It'd been a long time coming.

Sit. Please. A strong wave of déjà vu washed over him, and he did as instructed, meeting her eyes. His heart was pounding in his chest, and he was positive she could hear it. It was all he could hear, honestly. It was amplified in his mind and pounded in his ears, and he felt ill. Underneath his skin was a bundle of nerves, and that'd been there all along. They were only more noticeable now. He knew what was causing them now, and that was why he couldn't ignore them or settle them. Love wasn't something to be ignored or calmed down. He wished, because if this went poorly...

"Did you eat?" Carol's voice broke into his thoughts.

"Eat?" He stared at her.

"Yeah, did you have breakfast? Morgan made me something. There's plenty left." She smiled a little. "My appetite's returned and amplified, which is to be expected."

"Morgan, huh?" He said it like it was candy too sour to be liked.

"We're just friends," she assured him. "He's helped me a lot with what happened with the girls. I don't think I could have come to this point without him. I have a long way to go, but...inches mean a lot, you know?"

"He helped you?" Daryl studied her. "How?"

"Just...little things. It's difficult to explain." She crossed her legs. "It's...a good day today. I don't know if it'll stay that way, but for now I'm okay. That's thanks to Morgan and the baby...and to you."

He smiled slightly. "I missed you." He reached out to take her hand, but he didn't quite make it. He didn't know if it was okay, and she smiled softly at that and took his hand. "This is okay?"

"It's very okay."

"So...about what I told you before I left? Have you thought about it? I don't want to push you," he said, "and if you're not ready, then that's okay. It really is. I don't...want to force or guilt you into anythin'."

"Nobody can force me or guilt me into anything," she replied. "What I do and say is entirely of my own free will."

He nodded.

"So when I said I love you last night, I meant that I love you—I am in love with you. And I don't know how long I have been. It could have been weeks or months. It could have been longer than that, but I couldn't say. I've never known love like this. Unconditional love for my child? Yes, I know that like the back of my hand. Familial love? Without a doubt. But this? What I feel for you...? I've never known anything like this ever before."

Me neither. That what he wanted to say. Me neither. It was the truth. He didn't know love. First love, puppy love, any type of love that didn't have to do with blood. And hearing this woman—this incredible, gorgeous, brilliant woman—saying she loved him, she was in love with him...chased his voice from his very body.

What could he say? What could he even think? In all his life he always assumed the worst, and the worst always came. There was never any hesitation. The good was a joke that he never got to see, but the negative, the bad...there was never any doubt. So when he confessed his love after she called him out on it, he was damn near positive he would come back to have his heart crushed. He was ready for it. He was so ready for it. He could pretend he wasn't. He could pretend he was optimistic, but he wasn't. He wanted to keep an open mind, but it was like muscle memory. He was prepared to have his heart broken and to distant himself from the first and only woman he'll ever love.

Yet she'd said it. I love you. I am in love with you. She actually said those words, verbalized them. He wasn't dreaming. He wasn't imagining. He wasn't crazy. Those words left her lips, and she wasn't looking at him with pity. She wasn't looking at him in any other way than she always had. With love, with trust, with respect, with...no doubts. He remembered the first time she looked at him like this. It was blurred by her weakened state, but it was plain as day, just as it was now. And the only things that had changed were the amount of affection he saw there and that they were going to be parents.

"Daryl?" Carol waved a hand over his face, and he caught it, causing her to flinch at the sudden movement. The man had been a statue for a good five, ten minutes, and suddenly he just caught her hand. Even the baby jolted at that.

He blinked several times. "Sorry. I just...uh,... You said that."

She studied him without speaking.

"You really said that."

"That I love you?" The grin couldn't be helped. "Yes, I said that. Four times, I've said it."

"I love you too."

She raised her hand gently and brushed his bangs back to reveal his entire handsome face, and her fingertips trailed down to his jaw where they remained. "I know, and I'm sorry it took me so long to figure out—"

"No, no." He shook his head. "I—You needed that time to figure out where you were, what you wanted. It's—you needed it. I get that."

Her heart warmed. "Thank you."

He brought his hand up to hers and caressed her knuckles gently. "So, you love me, and I love you?"

"No need for it to sound like a question."

He looked down and smiled, meeting her eyes. "What happens now?"

"I'm not sure." She inhaled. "I suppose we'll take it slow."

"How slow?" He blushed at the sound of that. "No—not that I wanna do anythin'. I just—I don't know how—"

"It's okay." She laughed. "It's okay. I understand what you meant."

"Do you? 'Cause I ain't too sure I do." Another laugh, and he couldn't help but chuckle. "I've never...done anythin' like this before."

"I have...in another life." She exhaled and shrugged both shoulders. "But I don't want this...us...to be like anything I've ever experienced, because that clearly ended. I know it can't last forever—life doesn't last forever—but I want it to feel like it will, like...nothing will come between us. When the baby arrives, I want...to still feel as close—if not closer—to you as I do now."

Daryl began to frown now. "Wait..." There were tears in her eyes where happiness and love used to be, and he felt a cold chill course through his body, freezing his heart. Here it was. The negative, the bad—it had come for him, just like always.

"Biologically...this baby isn't yours," she strained. "I know it doesn't matter to you now. You've shown that to me in every way, but...the baby isn't here yet. He or she isn't even...present. I'm not showing. It's a fact, but it's not real just yet. It's not...alive to you yet."

"That's bullshit." His voice was lethally low.

"It might be, but Daryl, this baby...just like Sophia...will be the most important thing in my life. It's just the way it'll be. I can't...handle this baby coming between us."

"And it won't. I don't care about biology or—any of that. It's your kid, and I love him or her. No matter what. It's you and him or her. It's real to me—all of it—and it has been since I heard the heartbeat, since I saw our baby on that screen. It is our baby. Yeah, it's Tobin's, but I don't care. It's yours too, and I love you. I love this kid, because it's part of you. There's no way I can be jealous or angry at part of you... And maybe there it'll be more like Tobin or look like Tobin or whatever, that doesn't matter to me. Even if a shred of you is in that baby...I love it for the rest of my life."

Tears streamed down her cheeks. "What if...one day the baby resents you? Because you're not Tobin? What then?"

"I'll deal with it."

"I don't know how—"

"Nothin' set in stone," he interrupted. "The kid might not like me, or the kid will love me. We won't know till its all grown up. You don't needa worry about that shit right now. I won't stop lovin' this kid. It's all real to me. I ain't clingin' to pictures. I'm clingin' to our kid. I want this baby to be safe, to be healthy. To be loved. We can provide all of those things. Hate me or love me, as long as I know its taken care of, I'm fine with it."

She sucked in a breath to calm herself. "I'm crazy, aren't I?"

"You're not crazy."

"I have to be." She wiped her eyes. "Of course the baby's gonna love you."

He didn't smile. "The baby's gonna love you too."

"I want to believe that. I really do." She dropped a hand to her stomach and stroked it. "I don't know. I honestly don't."

"How can it not?"

"I used this baby's father to try and run away," she answered. "I didn't love him. I didn't...want him. This baby was an accident, and if I'm being honest...I didn't want the baby when I first found out I was having it. At my age...in this world...how could I even want to bring a child into this world?"

"Glenn and Maggie are tryin' to do it. And Judith is happy."

"She's been at risk. You know how big of a risk she's been caught up in." Icy eyes met his. "I can't live knowing that might happen to my baby. I can't live...if something happens to my baby."

"Nothin' gonna happen. You're in good health. The baby too. You're strong—"

"Who's Pentaghast?" she demanded, and Daryl tensed, all color draining from his face. "You were having a nightmare when I woke up this morning. You kept saying that name."

"It—it's nothin'."

"Don't lie to me."

"I'm not. It's nothin'."

She scrutinized his face. "I don't believe you."

"Well, you're gonna have to." He stood up. "It's just a name. Don't mean nothin'. You're just... just..."

"Just what? Hormonal?" she snapped. "You don't want to go there, Dixon. Trust me."

"No, you're just blowing up over nothin'! It's just a name!"

She crossed her arms over her chest. "If you love me, you won't lie to me, right?"

"What?"

"If you love me, you won't lie to me. So...who's Pentaghast? The trouble you ran into on the road? Or someone from before?"

"Pentaghast is nobody. It's just an ugly name for an ugly person. Don't make a big deal out of it."

She wasn't buying it, but she didn't want to get into a fight. She'd gotten her struggle out, and he wasn't ready to get his out, so she'd drop it. She'd pushed too much today anyway. She shouldn't have insulated any situation where Daryl wouldn't love this baby, or this baby wouldn't love him, but she'd gone over it. She had to consider it. For the baby, for herself and for Daryl. She didn't want him to be miserable, because her baby might not like him, or he couldn't view Tobin's baby as...his in any way once it was in his arms. He might still reconsider his position, or...maybe he'd fall in love with the baby. He'd taken to Judith, and she wasn't even a part of the woman he was in love with.

"Why're you smilin' like that?" He was lost. He had no clue where she was mentally, but he hoped it was off Pentaghast. He wanted to forget about her. He wanted to just find her and end her and have it be done with. He didn't want Carol anywhere near her. Carol or their baby. The bitch would fry before Carol even knew what color her hair was if he had any say.

"Do you know how to swaddle?"

He blinked, nose crinkling. "Like a duck?"

She giggled. "Not waddle. Swaddle."

He shook his head. "All I got is duck."

"Okay." She walked over to him. "I suppose I have some teaching to do."

"I suppose so." If it kept her off Pentaghast and taught him how to be a better father then he was all for it.

"Let's go upstairs. We can work better up there. It's where Morgan and I have been working."

"Morgan and you?"

"Yes. He was a father once too. We exchanged some tips. I'll show you."

"All right, but I ain't doin' the stick yoga shit."

She smirked. "It's not stick yoga."

"Rick said it was."

"It's prenatal. He picked up a tape from Harlan to do it with me." She climbed the stairs.

"Do it with you?" He chased after her. "What kind of stuff do y'all do...with prenatal yoga?"

"Nothing you'd want to hear about." She turned left at the top of the stairs towards the room she and Morgan had made into a makeshift nursery. "We had to steal one of the baby dolls Glenn brought back, but it's a pretty sizable doll."

He entered the room and found the sizable doll baby and some unused diapers and some of her clothes and Morgan's. His lip curled upward at the sight of that, but he knew nothing had happened between them. Morgan wasn't the type, and Carol had used this time apart to figure out her feelings. She didn't do that by screwing around with Morgan. That would be insane...wouldn't it?

"Unless you want to work on your pelvic core, I'd suggest you come here." She'd seen him eyeing the discarded clothing she and Morgan had left behind. "And again...nothing happened. It wouldn't, especially after—er..."

"After?" He narrowed his eyes.

"After I figured out how I felt. There's only been only one other man before you, and he doesn't really count. I didn't love him, and I never did." He gave her one of the best things in her entire life, and he nearly ruined it, but the world went ahead and took care of both of them. Sophia deserved so much better.

He wasn't sure if she meant Tobin or Ed, but those words applied to both, so it didn't matter. The clothes were just clothes. They were over shirts worn on chilly days, and the heating unit drove to be ditched in a pile. That was all there was to it. He was overreacting if he thought there was more to it. Overreacting or being an asshole. Likely both. He would drop it. He had other and more important skills to learn.

"Okay, so where do we start?" He closed the space between them and met her eyes, ready and eager to learn about becoming a better father.

A soft smile crossed her lips. "With swaddling."

"Won't we need a duck?" he mused.

She chuckled. "Okay, if you say that one more time, I'll throw you in the pond."

"I don't doubt it." He reached over and loosely grasped her fingers with his, earning a wider smile from her, and he felt his precious nerves melt. It'd be okay. He knew whatever happened next would be manageable. They would get through it together, as friends, as parents, as warriors, as...lovers. Heh, yeah, as all of those things and more.

– – –

"Hey." Rosita neared Abraham. He was lending Eugene a hand on fixing the broken machine they'd picked up, and she needed to have a word with him. Him and Spencer, but Abe was the easier of the two. She had to lecture Spencer, and she wanted to put off that off as long as possible, because she had to apologize too. She wasn't fond of apologies, but she did owe him that much.

"Hey." He rose out of his chair. "Do you need something?"

"A word." She didn't move any closer, and she inhaled deeply. "Look, let me just say what I have to say then you can do whatever you want with it."

"All right." He locked his gaze in hers.

She let it pour out. Everything she felt about him before he left, everything she felt after and then Sasha. She didn't care how uncomfortable she made him. She needed to let her feelings be known. She had no choice anymore. They were becoming too toxic to hold in, and if she wanted to truly move on this was how she started.

The more she talked, the lighter she felt, and even began to smile as she neared the end. She could say this last thing with a smile on her face. She meant it, but now it was more believable. She wanted him to have that peace, just like she wanted to have her own. He didn't have to take in her anger and annoyance, but she didn't have to cling to them either. They were free to float in the air around them, to one day vanish into that air and never been seen or heard from again, and that was truly something to smile about.

"I'm happy," she concluded, "if you're happy. Sasha's awesome. She seems to make you happy, and...I'm not upset or angry. I just want the best for you. That's all I have to say, so I'll let you get back to it." She turned on her heel and was about to leave when he called to her.

"I want that for you too."

She halted and peeked over her shoulder at him, not speaking.

"If I could find someone...something like this... I wanted you to have the same chance. I don't know if that's Spencer or not, but if it is...good luck. He's a tit."

She chuckled. "Yes, he is, and no, he's not."

"You never know."

"No, I know. And he's not. He's just...convenient." She couldn't be hurt by the truth, but Spencer could be, so she needed to stop by his place next. "Goodbye, Abraham."

He nodded to her. "Same to you, Espinosa."

She exited the garage and strolled down the street towards Spencer's house, and she wrapped her arms around herself. The sun was out, but it was chilly. She could see her breath if it held too much warmth. She knew she was also shaking off the last relationship she would likely have. She and Spencer didn't have a future. He was too much of a child right now, and she didn't want anything or anyone. She just needed time by herself. Denise was right that this was the first time she'd ever been alone, and maybe it wouldn't be so horrible to explore this. She might learn something about herself. She would only find out if she tried.

Spencer was inside his house in the living room, poking at the fireplace, and he seemed a little surprised to have company. He had a feeling he wasn't going to like what his company had to say, or the reason why she was here, but honestly it was better to have awkward company than none right now. It was too quiet around the house. Funny, because months ago it'd been too loud. How cruel must time be? Time and a certain asshole who still had his entire family.

"Do you mind if I sit?" She gestured to the couch.

"Go ahead."

She curled up in the corner nearest to the fire and rested her hands between her thighs. "Don't you look snug," she jested at him all wrapped up in a turtle neck sweater. "I think my uncle owed that shirt."

"Guess your uncle had good taste."

She chuckled. "He didn't."

He almost smiled. "Why are you here, Rosita?"

"To talk." She moistened her lips. "Look, about what's been going on between us—"

"If you're here to apologize or end it, don't bother. I worked that out for myself." He set the poker down and stood up, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "You can stay and get warm if you want, but don't. I told you before: I'm fine with just screwing around. We don't need to do this."

"No, we do. I do." She met his eyes. "God, you're such a child, you know that?"

"Oh, I'm a child? What about you? You're the one using me to get over someone else? That's pretty fucking weak, Rosita."

"I'll admit I was vulnerable and make mistakes. That's the mature thing to do here, and that's why I'm here. To apologize about what happened between us." She rolled her eyes. "I should have realized I was talking to a child. I would have tweaked the speech down, used little words."

"Yeah, so mature."

"You need to stop," Rosita snapped. "You're pissed at everyone, at the whole world, and you don't even see that, do you? You just live in this little bubble your parents build for you. Have you even tried to break out of it?"

"Why should I? Give it a day or two or a week, Rick'll do it for me. Hell, he might even get me killed. It wouldn't be the first or second or even third Monroe he's gotten killed!"

"He didn't get anybody killed!" Rosita hissed. "Nicholas did. Pete did. Walkers did. Not Rick. You got a taste of this world and didn't like it, so you're going to pin it on the people and person who can help you survive it."

"Do you even hear yourself? In the past six or more months, my family has been wiped out—"

"And you think you're the only one?" Rosita's chest was heaving rapidly as her anger boiled over. "You think you're the only person in this hellhole who's lose someone? No, not even close."

"I didn't—"

"You and Maggie are in the same boat. She lost her mom, her stepmom, her stepbrother, her baby sister, her father. Oh, and not to mention her unborn baby!" Rosita couldn't keep the venom out of her voice. "You want to sit there and play the pissed off spoiled little brat, go right ahead, but don't you dare think you have it the worst.

"I don't even know what happened to my family, and what I do know looks just like yours. I didn't even get to say goodbye or I love you or anything. They were just gone. I had to toughen up. I had to become the best, because I wasn't going to be like the them. I wasn't going to let the world take them and then me, so I fought. It wasn't easy, but I'm a quick study. I've overcome. That doesn't mean I don't miss my family. That doesn't mean I'm cold. That means I do what I have to do to keep myself and my new family going and alive. It isn't an easy road. You lose people—good people—like Noah...and Reg and Deanna." Her eyes burned. "Like Maggie's kid sister and her baby."

He swallowed hard and averted his eyes.

"Moms, Dads, sisters, brothers, children—you lose them too. This isn't the world any of us wanted. This isn't the world Judith and Carol's baby deserve, but it's the world we got. We have to deal with that and work together to make it a better world for them and for us. We don't get to cry and blame and expect things to work out in the end. We do and we fight and we move on. It's not that easy, but you learn to live with the scars. You have no choice but to."

"Stop," it was a whisper so soft she barely heard it.

She rose up off the couch. "It doesn't stop, Spencer. It never stops, so you need to grow up. You're not Deanna. You're not Reg. You don't know who you are, so I think you need to find out. You need to stop blaming people—or just blaming Rick. You need to mourn and move on, or you'll just join the bodies in the graveyard. Nobody can do anything for you anymore. And you have it in your head that it's just you, but it's not. You have family outside of blood. You're just too stubborn and too pissed to see them."

He opened this mouth to protest, but she didn't let him. "Figure out who you are before you try and assume who someone else is, Spencer. Do us all that favor. If you're going to be a pissy brat, at least be a pissy brat that's actually you. You don't fit so well in other people's shoes. I'm sorry about your family and about us. I really am, but you had months and months with them loving you and protecting you and having parties and dinners. You had a normal life at the end of the world. You don't know how lucky you are. You can't don't know what any of us would give to have those moments for even a second with someone we lost. Why don't think about that? Instead of you, you, you, okay?"

With that, she was gone, and he was left with a crackling fire in a house quieter than he'd ever known it to be.

– – –

Enid was curled up in front of the fire with the still nameless puppy in her arms, the pair of them napping, and Glenn and Maggie were snuggled up on the couch beside them, watching them. It brought such warmth to them, a warmth the fire paled in comparison to, and it was time. Time to talk, time to admit the wounds had scarred over, time to...start again.

"Maggie." Glenn looked at her, his fingers playing with hers over the blanket. "There's something I want to talk to you about."

"Me too." She met his eyes. "But you can go first."

He sucked in a breath and smiled. "I want to try again. I want to talk to Harlan and work out any...issues. I want to be parents to a child of our own. I want to make something good and put it out into the world."

She grinned. "Me too."

"Really?"

She nodded. "I don't know how it'll turn out, but I want a baby with you. I want to leave something good behind in this world. Just like you said." She tightened her grip on his fingers. "Something that's just ours. There's a lot to talk about, and we'll talk about it. With Harlan and with each other, with Enid, but for right now, why don't we just...sit here and enjoy the fire with our...newborn puppy and our daughter?"

"Okay."

They wouldn't see Harlan until Carol's next appointment, and that would give them weeks to talk and to think it over and truly know if they were ready for this again. Good or bad, they both wanted to try, but wanting wasn't the same as being ready for. They had a lot to learn and a lot to recover from. If this went badly, there was no telling how it would damage them, so they needed to do everything within their power to ensure it didn't end badly. So preparation and time and consulting Harlan were what they had to look forward to in the coming weeks. It would be difficult, remembering and talking about the miscarriage, but difficult pasts sometimes made way for a better and beautiful future. That's what they were holding onto.

On the carpet, a smile crossed Enid's lips as she snugged the pup closer, and all she wanted to do was jump up and talk about this with them. She did resist however. This moment was private, it was between them, and they'd tell her when they were ready. She'd save her thoughts and affection for then.

–––

Daryl had learned about swaddling and diaper rashes and fevers and a lot of other things he would probably forget and have to ask about later on when they happened to the baby. Carol was a patient teacher, and he was grateful to have her there. It made him fall more in love with her, just having her by his side, and while she was schooling him, he didn't care. He could have listened to her talk about the baby—their baby—for the rest of his life and been content.

His eyes fell on her now. She was curled up on the bed, napping for the past hour, and she looked so adorable. Her hair was messy, her lips parted and shut now and then, and her eyelids fluttered a bit. She wasn't sweating or panting or going through any nightmares. She was just dreaming, wrapped up in a blanket, and she was beautiful. She was...stunning and gorgeous, and she was in love with him.

In love with him. He still couldn't believe it. This amazing woman who was intelligent and thoughtful and been through hell and back was in love with him. He wouldn't belittle himself, but he wasn't... He didn't feel he was enough. He wasn't sure what he lacked to not be enough, but he was sure he wasn't. He loved her enough, there was no doubt about that, but he knew love wasn't enough to make a relationship work. They had understanding and were compatible. They had a bond, a connection they didn't share with anybody else, and they had a history. He still didn't know if that was enough, if he was enough, but he had her, and she had him. They would make it work. They would make it enough. More than enough, if he had any say.

They were going to be parents. They were going to raise this child together, and they were going to be together. They were going to be its parents and be a real family. A normal...nuclear family, and he couldn't believe he'd ended up in such a normal situation. Sure, it was the end of the world, and it wasn't his baby by blood, but it was his baby in every other sense of the world. He loved this child like it was his own. He was learning how to take care of it like a regular dad would. He was trying to straighten his shit out, so he wouldn't be the same father to his kid as his dad was to him. He was trying to become someone better, because he wanted this kid, their kid, to have a solid, loving family in this fucked up world. He didn't know how far he'd come or how much further he had to go, but he would break his back to overcome everything he had inside of him that might be harmful to his son or daughter. That was a promise.

He stood up from his spot on the floor where he'd been reading the book he'd gotten while out on that run with Glenn and Rick, and he set the book down on the bed, lowering himself down onto his knees beside it. He gently brushed the hairs from Carol's forehead away and placed a kiss there, and she inhaled softly, not waking, just rolling onto her back. He glanced at her face then her now exposed belly—her shirt was covering it, but she wasn't in a ball anymore—and he moved his hand over her stomach.

"Hey, kid, it's me—again." He kept his voice low, not wanting to wake or even disturb Carol's rest. "Been a while since I last done this, but...it's been crazy out here." A little too crazy for his liking. Loss, murder, a tiny rapist, nightmares. More loss. He hoped the loss stopped. He couldn't take who he might lose next.

"Anyway, I just...wanted to let you know it ain't gonna be easy. Your natural father ain't here anymore. I'm real sorry about that. I wish you could've gotten to know him. He woulda been good to you. He woulda been overprotective and kinda of an ass, but he would've done anythin' for you. He died trying to do right by you. It was...a tough situation, but we're makin' peace with. At this point we gotta make peace with it, you know?

"We'll tell you all about him. He's got friends who are gonna tell you about him. They already love you. They want to protect you 'cause you're his blood, 'cause you're part of their family, same as he was. So you'll have his family. You'll have 'em to answer all of your questions, and I know it don't make up for him not bein' here to tell you himself, but...it's the best we can do."

He inhaled and stroked her belly with his thumb. "It's been a rough ride so far, kid, and it ain't gonna get any easier, but I'm here for you. Your mom's here for you. And a lot of family. You probably got too much family. They'll drive you insane, but...you're gonna love 'em. They'll have your back, and they'll always keep you safe. We'll always keep you safe. That's our job, even after you're able to do it yourself. It's our job to love you, and we already do. It's our job to protect you, and we already are. So right now it's your job to grow. Grow up strong and healthy, and we'll take care of everythin' else."

He didn't know he was crying until a hot tear fell onto his hand, and he shuddered, a flash of his nightmare coming back to him, and he steadied himself. "We'll take care of everythin' else." Starting with finding Pentaghast and killing her before she had a chance to even look at you, he thought to himself. He wouldn't let that anyone hurt his family. This was the first day of the rest of his life, and no one was going to take any of his family from him. His small family of three or his larger family. Pentaghast would die first. He would make sure of it.


	32. And So They Lived

Glenn and Enid walked the yard, taking in the hard work of the construction crew these last couple of months, and they were bundled up to fight off the cold air of winter. It was still this early in the morning, most people were asleep or waiting until the last minute to leave their homes for their duties. It was pleasant to be the only two there, and Glenn watched Enid take in her home.

It was beautiful. She had been smiling so much lately, spending time with Carl and with the puppy and with Maggie. She was even working up the nerve to play the guitar again. She was settling down. She was putting down roots. She wasn't ready to run at the first sign of danger anymore. She was at home with Alexandria and with its people, with Glenn and Maggie. It warmed his heart to know they had helped make this place her home. Their home. They were a family, and that was becoming a reality. It was more evident now.

He would walk into the kitchen or the living room and find Maggie and Enid passed out at the table or the couch, notes scattered everywhere, snacks in crumbles with half empty cups of water. He would find himself arguing with Enid over silly things, like the puppy's name, and he caught himself thinking his wife and his daughter. It was the most natural thing, too. He didn't even question that Enid wasn't his. She was. He loved her. He knew he did when he asked her to become a part of their family, but now he loved her so much it ached at the thought of something happening to her. Not even walker related things either. Heart break and failed exams. Her dreams were his now, and he was proud of her. He always would be.

"Nothing to report." She stomped her foot to keep from tripping and looked at him. "It looks good."

"It does." He nodded. "We might be building some new homes out here."

"We could plant some trees too. It's a little empty and lifeless. I know it's winter, and it's supposed to be dead, but it's really dead right now."

"We could do that in the spring." He nudged her and started back the path towards Maggie's office. "We could even have a picnic out here."

Enid smiled. "With Judith and Carol's baby out of danger. The pond's across town and gated, but the only thing we'll have to worry about is bruised knees for Judith. Carol's baby won't be moving much in the spring."

"Well, she's through her fifth month now. So we have four more months, if the baby's not late or early."

"She's a little bigger, but not by much."

"She's at a good weight. Harlan said the baby was the right size. Carol's just small in general. Lori was the same way."

"Yeah." Enid tucked her hands into her pockets. "Maggie told me the same thing."

"It's a shame that machine isn't fixed yet," Glenn commented. "It'd be nice to see the baby moving."

"You could have gone in when Harlan performed the ultrasound."

"No, that was for Daryl and Carol. Maggie and I were just there to protect them if anything went wrong on the way to and from."

"And to talk about how to improve your chances of a healthy pregnancy," she added.

"How do you know about that?"

"I know you guys, and I'm not deaf. I can hear you talking about it in the kitchen before dinner. I hear you talking about it while sorting through the rations with Olivia. Maggie and Carol talk about it too." She offered a supportive smile. "I'm happy you guys are trying. I want you to have a baby. I want to be...a sister. I have your back through everything, you should know that by now."

He returned her smile and embraced her. "Well, I know now."

"It only took forever."

"I'm new to this dad thing, okay? Give me some time."

"All right, Maggie and I will raise the baby till you get there." She grinned at him, and he shook his head, letting go. "I've been working on my diapering, and I'm pretty good at it."

"I should work on that too."

"Carol has a doll. She's been showing Daryl. We could borrow it."

"Uh, not right now. We have to finish this patrol." And he didn't want to walk in and see what Carol and Daryl were doing beside working on his diapering skills.

––

"You don't have to do this." Carol met his eyes. "I appreciate you saying you'd do it, but honestly you don't have to. We'll be fine without you."

"No, it's all right. I wanna do it."

Carol glanced at Morgan. "Okay."

Daryl had decided to join them with her prenatal yoga, which she laughed at for about ten minutes before she realized he was serious. She had to excuse herself before she talked to him again, and now she and Morgan both were giving him an excuse to just hang back. He wasn't going to take it, and they could see he was going to go through with this, one way or another. They just hoped another wasn't him breaking, pulling or spraining something. Honestly, Morgan couldn't do half of it. He only did it to be supportive, and Carol appreciated it. But on his first go he almost pulled a muscle and was down for a few hours. She didn't want to relive that.

"Let's just do it."

"Okay."

It'd been nearly a month since the hospital run, Maggie was still recovering from her injury, as well as Denise, but they were improving each day. Maggie was back to running the town with some aid from Michonne and Rick. They were currently discussing building houses in the empty yard, but they didn't need them right away. Daryl and Aaron hadn't gone out to search for people in weeks, but they would be starting that up again when the winter was over. They didn't want to get caught out there in a storm and be away for days or weeks on end. So right now a lot of talking was going on, plans were being laid out, and they would be brought up again in the spring.

They began their session as per usual with some light breathing, Morgan wanted to channel some of his morning routine into what was now Carol's routine, and it was working well for her. Granted they'd only done it about three or four times, as Carol mostly wanted to talk about the baby and how she felt about it now, but it seemed to suit her needs right now. He was glad to help, and so was the instructor on the tape. Carol could find comfort there, and it was just her and the baby, and nobody else. Morgan had come to realize how important this was for her during their second session, and he gave her some time alone to just be with the baby. Plus it was hard to stretch his pelvic floor—he could do downward dog, but that was a different type of yoga—so he stepped out.

They moved down into crowning otter, there was a slight discomforted grunt. Carol was lost in her zone, it was just her and the growing life inside of her, but Morgan heard it low by his ear. They were in a triangle position with Carol and Morgan in the front and Daryl in the rear. Morgan knew it was Daryl, and the line between supportive and regret had become real thin.

Then came a thud, Carol's eyes shot open, and she and Morgan straightened up to find Daryl on the floor, gripping his thigh. Carol lowered herself down beside him, Morgan was trying not to smirk as he'd been there and done that, and Carol told him to relax. It wasn't so easy.

"Fuck." This hiss escaped through clenched teeth.

"Daryl, stop." Carol moved his hands. "You must have pulled a muscle."

"No shit, Sherlock."

She shook her head. "I told you you didn't have to join us. Don't get pissy with me, because you didn't listen."

"I ain't pissy. Well, not at you."

"Here." Morgan bent down and hauled Daryl up to his feet, placing him on the bed. "I'll go get some ice and a pillow."

Daryl dropped his wrist onto his forehead as Carol propped his thigh up, and he shook his head. She tucked the rest of the pillows behind his back for support. She turned the television off and crossed her arms, smirking at him, and his cheeks, neck and tips of his ears only reddened. She sighed softly and sank down onto the bed beside him.

"It happens. You don't need to be embarrassed. You're not the most...limber of people to begin with."

He grumbled.

She smiled at him. "You're adorable when you pout."

"I ain't poutin'," he muttered, lowering his wrist to his lower torso.

"Sure, you're not." She reached over and grasped his hand, squeezing it. "I'll go check on Morgan."

"Yeah."

"Don't try and stretch it out right now."

He exhaled and watched her leave, and he lifted his leg slightly, hissing softly under his breath at the sharp pull on his muscle, and he lowered it instantly. Okay, maybe Morgan was right. He shouldn't have tried to do this. He was like a rock, Morgan was like...mud, and Carol apparently was water. He should have just watched. What the hell was he trying to prove?

About ten minutes later, Morgan and Carol returned with ice and another pillow, Morgan leaned against the wall, and Carol iced his thigh, and Daryl sorely wished Morgan wasn't in the room right now. He was in pain, but if Carol was going to ice his thigh, he'd rather they be alone. It was less awkward for him.

"How'd you get that tape?" Daryl spoke to break the silence, staring at the ceiling. "Thought you didn't go with 'em."

"I didn't. I asked Rick to see if Harlan or anyone in Hilltop had any tapes on yoga or prenatal yoga that one appointment you missed. Harlan happened to have one. Luckily we have a VHS player, so it worked out."

Carol peeked at Daryl without saying a word.

"And if he didn't have one?"

"I would have found another way."

"Right."

Carol set her hand on Daryl's knee and cast her gaze to Morgan. "I should get him out of his pants, so why don't you give us a moment?"

"Sure. I'll be downstairs. I'll make some lunch."

"Thanks." Carol watched him leave.

"You gotta take my pants off?"

"No." She adjusted the ice on his thigh. "But I didn't think you'd want or need an audience while you were suffering."

He smirked. "Good call."

"Besides I know you don't care for Morgan, and honestly I don't want to deal with any arguments today."

"It's not like I dislike him," he mumbled.

"But you don't like him either."

"I don't know him."

"He saved your life once."

"Those hospital people saved yours, do you like 'em?" he retorted.

"They didn't save my life. They got me out of the street and away from walkers, but they didn't save my life. I'm pretty sure they gave up on me. You know who saved my life."

"I just don't like how he's always around," Daryl confessed. "Before y'all were even friends. I ain't jealous. It ain't that. I just don't like how he...hovers."

"I didn't like it either. He used to drive me insane, but...he's gotten better about it, and I go to him when I need him."

"What do you need him for?" Daryl met her eyes, the question that left his lips seconds ago was hesitant and unsure. He wasn't positive he wanted an answer.

"He knows about the girls. I told him after you left." She lowered her eyes. "He...helped me. He's still helping me come to terms with it."

"Couldn't I help you do that?"

"Not in the way I needed weeks ago when you all left town." She glanced at him. "I'm glad you left. That run was essential, so don't feel regret. I turned to Morgan, because he understood. He went through what I went through, and...and he's helping me move past it. He's helping me enjoy this pregnancy and this baby, not—not feel resentful or worried. Or like the world was mocking me and what I've endured." She studied him. "I felt the baby move yesterday during our session, and I started to cry. I just bawled like a baby, and it wasn't because I was sad or miserable or that this movement meant this was real and the clock was ticking. I cried, because my child was big enough to move. My child. God, Daryl, it was incredible."

"The kid moved? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because you wanted to join us during our yoga session, and you wouldn't shut up about it." She was smiling at him though. "And I didn't want to get all emotional again. It's taxing."

"I'm sorry. Must seem like a crazy possessive guy."

"Not...really."

He scoffed.

"Sometimes it's okay to be possessive, but you need to have a little trust. Morgan isn't going to make any moves. He's still in love with his wife, and I'm in love with you. There aren't going to be any moments of weakness, and if there are, it'll likely be tears and snot, okay? It won't be pretty." She set a hand on his shoulder. "You need to learn a little thing called trust."

"I do trust you, and I know nothin's gonna happen." He reached up and clasped her wrist. "I just...don't wanna miss anythin'. I was gone for a long time. I missed an appointment, and I don't want to miss nothin' else."

"Daryl, you won't miss anything else." She squeezed his shoulder. "Trust me, you'll be there for all the baby kicks and appointments and movement. I'll make sure of it."

He leaned back. "I'm crazy."

She giggled. "I'll let you know when you hit crazy. For now, it's kind of cute. You injured yourself to hang around me and the baby. Don't make a habit of it though. I can't raise this child alone."

He smiled a little. "You won't."

She searched his eyes, drinking in the soft smile he'd only ever given her, the embarrassed love swirling in those crystal orbs, that little twitch his lip gave. She moved her hand from the ice pack on his thigh and leaned forward, her hand moving to his cheek, and she didn't back down. There had been moments like this littered in the past few weeks since his return, but he stopped, or she did, or someone interrupted. They'd been together as a couple for a while now, but they hadn't had a first kiss. It was important, and it would bring another massive change. Admitting their love for each other was huge, and it rattled their relationship and themselves, but it only made way for this. A kiss made way for something neither of them was entirely ready for, but that could wait. Kissing him, wanting to kiss him, couldn't.

She cupped his cheek, her forehead coming to rest on his, and she searched his eyes for a moment. Consent was there, and she knew it would be, but she needed a moment. A moment to collect herself, a moment to breath, a moment to stop her legs from shaking, a moment to...to prepare herself. She hadn't kissed a man she'd loved and actually wanted to kiss in years. Possibly maybe never in her entire life up until now. She inhaled and closed her eyes, closing the space between their lips, and he stiffened when her lips met his.

It was the middle of winter, the frigid air left their lips chapped, but it didn't matter. The warmth there, the lust and the need she found boiling to the surface of this kiss erased the awkward feel within moments. However that moment she'd taken to collect herself, to ready herself, had been for nothing. Her heart was racing, and she felt like an inexperienced teenager. She felt shaky and clumsy, but it didn't embarrass her. It only made her try and push by that phase, and it was beyond worth it. After all this time it couldn't be anything else.

Daryl sat up, cupping her cheeks in his hands, and he pulled back for air. His lips were rough, he knew. It wasn't like chap stick was easy to come by, so he moistened his lips with his tongue and kissed her again. She made a strange noise, and he didn't know if it was good or bad, but he did feel her lips were rough, just like his were. He lowered a hand to her chin, the other dropping to her hip, and he lifted her chin. He boldly traced his tongue along the curve her lips, she whined softly, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him even harder.

Her fingers weaved through his hair, and she opened her mouth to his, the flood of hot breath causing him to shiver. She tasted like honey and mint, and he found himself carving that taste. He pulled her onto his lap, his hands moving from her hips to glide along her back, and she moaned against his mouth. His began to react to that sound, to the feel of her on his lap, and he wanted more. He wanted all of her, right then and there, and he didn't care about anything other than how she felt against him. God, she was all he could feel, all he could think, all he could smell and taste. His heart was racing in his chest because of her, and it wasn't enough. He wanted so much more.

"Daryl..." she managed to pull away, despite how her body ached and burned for her to not, for her to stay in that moment with him. "Stop."

That was usually his line, and honestly, he hated the sound of it right now, but he did. Of course he did.

"We have to stop." She dropped her forehead on his once more, allowing her burning lungs to fill with air. "Morgan's downstairs. We can't do this here."

"Why not?" It came out much whiner than he intended.

"He's making lunch, and I don't want to him to come up here and ask if we want carrots or peas. I don't want to give him a show." She sat back, opening her eyes.

"The door locks, don't it?"

"Daryl."

He groaned.

"You'll survive until we get home."

He opened his eyes. "Till we get home?"

She smiled. "You sound surprised. Did you think all of my jokes in the past were just jokes?"

"...yeah."

She chuckled. "That figures." She stood up and headed towards the door. "I'll go help Morgan with lunch."

"Wait, so you were serious on the bus?"

She adjusted her rumpled cardigan. "Why? Are you getting ideas?"

"Maybe."

"Good." She strolled out of the room.

Good for her, bad for Daryl and his growing...erm, situation.

– – –

"Do you have a song in mind? Or do you want to do something simple?" Enid sat on the couch beside Glenn with the guitar between them. "Hickory-Dickery-Dock's a classic."

He chuckled. "No thanks. Let's just...have you start. Why don't you take over? You're the teacher."

"Okay." She moistened her lips and picked up the guitar, positing it over her thighs and adjusting her arm. She cleared her throat and placed her fingers in the familiar places along the strings. Her throat began to dry, her fingers trembled on the strings, and she squeezed her eyes shut.

"Hey, hey, it's okay." Glenn set a hand on her shoulder. "I'm right here. It's okay."

"I don't think I can do this."

"You don't have to."

"But you want to learn."

"But I also want you to be okay with teaching me." He pulled the guitar out of her arms. "We'll take our time with it. We have plenty of time."

"And if we don't?" She opened her eyes.

"We'll make the time." He smiled encouragingly at her. "Don't stress out about it. Don't force yourself to do this for me. This is about you. Do it for you when you're ready."

She nodded. "Okay."

He rubbed her back and stood up. "Let's go find Maggie."

"She's probably with Judith. Or Carol." Enid turned to him, swallowing to try and restore moisture to her mouth, her eyes lingering on the abandoned guitar. She pushed on to keep her mind from going back to that day. "The baby moved last night. I got to feel it."

"When did you see Carol last night?"

"You and Maggie had patrol, so I hung out at Carl's. Carol and Daryl were there, and Daryl was a little grumpy, but he pretty much always is."

Glenn opened the door for her. "That is true."

"Anyway, we were talking, and Carol stopped to say the baby was moving. Daryl practically drove from across the room to feel it, and I got to feel it too. It was so cool."

"I wonder if that means she'll start showing soon."

"She's dropped some in the last couple of days." Enid had already said so yesterday, but she wanted to keep the conversation going. Her mind was having other plans, and she didn't agree with them; so if repetition helped, she'd repeat herself until she was old and gray.

"I noticed that too."

"She's going to have a cute bump." That came from Maggie, who joined them with Judith on her hip. "Actually, I can verify that she does."

"She has a bump?" Glenn's brows rose.

"Yep. She popped overnight." Maggie felt Judy playing with her short locks, and she gently pulled her hands free. "She's so cute. You have to see her."

"All right, but don't get jealous when I call her cute," Glenn teased.

"I'll try." She leaned up and kissed him. "Come on, I gotta get Judy in. It's too cold for her."

The trio headed over to Carol's, finding Michonne and Rick had beaten them there, and Carol was laughing. She was proudly displaying her bump, Rick and Michonne took turns feeling the life inside of her, and Enid joined them, amazed at how big she'd gotten overnight. Carol didn't seem to mind the comments about that either. She was glowing, and it was the first time since Maggie had known Carol that she'd seen the older woman glowing with happiness. It was amazing. Truly.

"Godfather coming through." Glenn slipped through the crowd to witness the bump that would be his godson. "It's like there's a volleyball under your shirt."

"Thanks?" She wasn't sure what to say.

"I bet it's a boy." Michonne crossed her arms. She'd been carrying the same way when she was pregnant with Andre. "You're carrying high."

"Aww. Judy's gonna have a little boy to torment," Enid mused.

"If she's anything like you," Carl shot back.

"Just wait then, and I'll show you torment," Enid softly warned.

Rick glanced at the teens and felt Michonne nudge him, and he could practically hear her words from last month. He did need to talk to Carl. He and Enid were getting cozy, and he didn't want another baby floating around here. He doubted Enid did either.

Carol set a hand on her bump and saw Maggie standing in the back of the room quietly, and she walked over to her, a little nervous, but Maggie broke out into a wide smile as she neared. There wasn't a trace of darkness or resentment or jealousy. There was only joy and happiness, and Carol relaxed.

"Look at you." Maggie had handed Judith over to Carl when they entered so her hands were free, but she didn't reach for the bump. "I saw you earlier, but...not so up close."

"Yeah." Carol couldn't help the smile. "The baby's making itself at home now."

"I'll bet."

Carol reached out slowly and grasped Maggie's hand, Maggie pulled back slightly but not with enough that told Carol to stop, and Carol carefully set the younger woman's hand on her pregnant belly. Maggie's hand twitch, but it molded against the bump. Carol watched tears spring up in her eyes, and soon both of her hands were on Carol's belly, and Carol set her hands over Maggie's.

"Whoa." Maggie's head snapped up to Carol's eyes as the baby kicked—hard. "Did you feel that?"

"Yeah." She nodded. "I guess the baby's excited to see its godmother."

The tears fell free at that. "Godmother? You're sure?"

"There was never anyone else."

Maggie embraced her, her stomach flipping at the feel of Carol's plump belly against her own flat belly, and she smiled. There was no other place she'd rather be than here with her family, here with Carol and this beautiful little baby. She couldn't wait for this little baby to be born. She wanted to hold him or her in her arms and see them grow up strong and capable. She couldn't wait to see Carol with her son or daughter, and oh, it would be so amusing to watch Daryl attempt to handle this. He'd do great though. She knew he would do great. They both would. And so would her and Glenn when the time was right. That time was nearing, and she didn't know if she was ready or not, but she knew she was excited to be a godmother. She couldn't imagine the bliss and excitement that would come at the news of her becoming a mother again. Of her and Glenn become parents to a newborn and holding their child in their arms. Things were coming around and looking bright. Finally.

Daryl and Aaron entered the house, finishing up patrol, and both men were curious to know what was going on. Carol told them about the baby kicking, Aaron was happy she was so happy, and Daryl wanted to know if it still was. He was on it instantly, and the room burst into laughter at him flinging off his gloves and practically diving across the room. It was a Kodak moment for sure.

Glenn wrapped an arm around his wife, kissing the top of her head as she nuzzled her head into the crook of his shoulder, and he stroked her hair.

"We're parents and godparents," she whispered.

"We're parents and godparents," he whispered back into her hair, and she smiled and hugged him. It would seem the adventure was only just beginning. Corny as it was. He could only this adventure had a happy ending.

– – –

Meanwhile in the cold air marched a small army of forty or so, who were following the orders of their leader, and they stopped when a certain sign caught her attention. Reading the words and claiming it as her own, she had the sign burned, so no one else would know if what would soon be their new home. And as it burned, the redheaded commander ordered her people to change course. She would see "the start of sustainability" and if it truly was, perhaps her "new start" would begin there too. After all, she couldn't wander forever in these conditions.


	33. Though Not So Happily

"Could it hurt the kid?"

"No."

"You're sure?"

"I'm positive."

This had been the conversation for the last hour, and Carol had to keep from laughing here and there. He was so serious and so protective. It was adorable and hilarious. He didn't grow up with babies, and he probably didn't even graduate high school or even focus in school, so she was fine with the questions. His other skills made up for what he didn't learn in school, and honestly being in school and having graduated with the shape of the world now didn't help anybody. His set of skills were more useful now than her slip of paper. Proper grammar meant nothing in the middle of the woods, starving and thirsty. Or surrounded by the enemy, both dead and alive.

But more on the subject: sex. Carol wanted to talk about it, no matter how embarrassing it was, no matter how awkward it got. She wanted to talk about it. It was a big step, and they were barely off their first kiss. She had teased in the past, but she didn't expect it to come to this one day. So she wanted to discuss it with him and make him feel comfortable about talking about it. Honestly, there was a level of intimacy between them that couldn't be explain or talked through, and it was just as important as sex. She loved that they had that, and she knew they were ready for the next physical level. It might be awkward and fumbling and riddled with laughter, but most of the best memories were. Or at least the most memorable memories were. And she didn't want to forget. Come what may, she didn't want to forget a single second of this relationship with him.

Daryl shifted on the bed. "It won't make you uncomfortable?"

"Trust me, of all the things that make me uncomfortable, that isn't one of them."

He scratched the back of his neck. "Okay."

"Just okay?"

"Well, I dunno what to say," he huffed, cheeks reddening. "Just...we covered it all, right?"

"I think so." She nodded, tapping her thumbs on her belly.

"What happens now?"

"We figure out how in the hell we're going to fit a crib in either of our rooms," she muttered. They'd encountered this problem the other night. They were in her bedroom, which was somewhat littered with his things, and they had issues maneuvering through the mess. There was plenty of room for the two of them, but not much else. Especially when little Judy came in and wanted to play with her favorite Daryl. It brought on the issue of what they were going to do when their baby arrived. They didn't even have a crib for them, and Carol was getting a little anxious about everything involving the baby.

There were so many products and items that Carol had bought for Sophia that she didn't have for this baby. Most of it was just useless junk, but a lot of it was pretty vital. They didn't have any of it. They had some of Judith's hand-me-downs, and Eric was ready to make clothes for him or her once it was here, but that left diapers and a crib and—and—God, she had a huge list somewhere. Her brain was scrambled from the stress of it, and Daryl told her not to worry, but she still did. He could go out and find it, but all she could do was pace through Alexandria. Soon it'd be waddle through Alexandria. She didn't miss those days, to be honest.

"It can't be in mine."

"We could probably fit a crib in here," Carol stated. "We just need a crib to test it, and I don't want to borrow Judith's, especially if any crib we happen upon is bigger or smaller."

"Couldn't we put the baby in with Judy?" Daryl suggested.

"No. A newborn cries—a lot. We'd just upset Judith, and then we'd have two crying little ones on our hands. I doubt anyone wants that." She was nervous about having her baby here. This wasn't the prison. This was a single house, and they would all be affected by the baby's crying. They all went through Judith's wailing, but they could move to the kitchen or another part of the prison, but if they moved to the kitchen here, they'd only manage to wake everyone up. And babies cried a lot. Sometimes there was no way to stop them, because sometimes babies simply needed to cry. There wasn't a reason, just the act of release, perhaps.

"We still got time," he commented. "Four more months, give or take. We'll get it sorted."

"I hope."

He studied her then leaned over, using his palms to keep his balance on the bed, and he kissed her. He kept it brief, because the bedroom door was open, and Rick was home with Judith. He knew pretty much everyone knew, but he wanted it to be private. He wanted it to just be them for as long as possible. After all this time, he just wanted her to himself for a bit.

She rested her forehead against his and smiled faintly. "We'll get it sorted."

He leaned back. "We will." He slid off the bed. "But first we oughta get you somethin' to eat. It's almost lunchtime."

"Any chance we'll have steak?" She wanted a meaty steak with perfectly crispy fat on the rim. The thought of it nearly made her drool. She knew the sides she wanted would make Daryl want to yak, so she kept them to herself. She could kill for ding dong, though. It wasn't one of her weirdest cravings, but God, it sounded so good.

He smirked. "Best I could do was venison."

She stood up. "It'll do."

He grasped her hand, and she laced her fingers through his. They padded down the stairs to find and prepare the venison Daryl had caught, and they found Glenn and Maggie in the living room. They were watching Judith, as Carl and the other teens were busy with Abe's new wood shop class. It wasn't a huge hit, but there wasn't much else to do around here. It would be useful. They could learn how to make a solid wall, perhaps even a house. They could really use whatever Abe taught them, and it was better than video games and whatever else the teens of Alexandria got into.

"Hey, guys." Maggie smiled at the sight of them on the steps.

"Hey." Daryl came off the steps, finding Judy staring at the TV that played out Shrek or something, holding tightly to her sippy cup. She still wore her pajamas. It was odd that Michonne or Rick hadn't changed her clothes yet, but at the sight of Glenn on the floor beside her, nibbling on the breakfast food she didn't want, he figured out what had happened. They must have taken over Judy duty today. It would make for great practice. He should take a few shifts. Beth and Carol and Rick mostly handled baby Judy, so he wasn't familiar with the diapers and how to wrestle them into their clothes and all that good stuff. He might use this as a learning experience.

"We need to talk to you." Maggie glanced back at her husband who was eating the puffs Carol had made for Judy. "Glenn."

"Right." He swallowed and stood up, brushing crumbs off his shirt. "She offered them to me."

Carol smirked. "If you want, there's strawberry ones in the cookie jar."

"Really?" He cleared his throat at the look his wife shot him. "I mean, thanks, but we have news. More important news than soft, fluffy fruit puffs..."

"What news?" Carol released Daryl's hand to catch Judy before she walked right out of the living room, holding the child.

"It's a surprise." Maggie grinned. "Come with us."

"What, y'all got blindfolds too?" Daryl snorted.

"As a matter of fact," Glenn produced two bandannas from his back pocket, "we do."

Carol looked at the cloth. "I am not putting that on."

Maggie saw negative memories flow through Carol's eyes. "It's just a joke."

"Good, 'cause I'm gonna take these." Daryl snatched them and stuffed them into his pocket. "Thanks."

"Trust me, you'll be wanting to save that thanks." Glenn opened the front door. "Here, let me take her."

Carol handed the girl over, Judy smiled at her favorite Glenn, and Maggie handed them their coasts. They headed out. Daryl made sure he had a hold of Carol in case they came across any ice. Glenn tugged Judy's oversized coat down to keep her warm, and Maggie kept trying not to rush them. She was so excited about this gift for them. She and Glenn had been working on it for days now with Denise's help, and Michonne and Sasha's too when they could lend it. They had perfected this gift, and they knew it was something the couple and parents-to-be needed. It was the best thing they could offer Daryl and Carol at the time, and it'd be...somewhere to grow. Grow as a couple, grow as parents, grow as a family. It...warmed her heart to be a part of that. She was beyond thrilled to finally be here with them. It was a moment to be remembered.

Glenn couldn't help but laugh at how Judith reacted to snow. It was really her first time around it, and she wanted to eat it and roll in it and jump around on it. It was adorable. He couldn't put her down, though. It was too cold, and he didn't want Rick to chew him out. Besides he liked holding her. She wasn't practice for him. She was family, and he felt...connected to Lori and T-dog, the two had been lost on the day of her birth. Especially Lori, who she was looking more and more like. Her golden locks were darkening, and she had this look that reminded him of Lori. She was a piece of his fallen family, and he was grateful to have her. He'd played a part in trying to end her—unknowingly, but still—and he was glad it failed. She was a treasure.

Daryl spotted Michonne and Denise on the porch to the clinic, Michonne was eyeing him, and he was curious as to why until it dawned on him. He needed to talk to her. He'd been a little busy lately. Okay, busy wasn't the word. He'd been up Carol's ass. She didn't mind, and he wanted to be there every step. Perhaps too many steps, but he didn't want to miss this. This might be his only chance to have a child with Carol in this world, and he wanted every second ingrained into his memory, so he was old and gray, he could look back and remember this joy. Remember how Carol's eyes sparkled, remember how she talked to the baby when it did something she didn't approve of—like making her have to pee every other minute. He wanted these memories with him for the days she wasn't. Say, he was struck on a long ass run, at night he wanted to reflect on this. It was better than playing ever nightmarish outcome that could occur on that run.

Carol shivered in her coat and instantly felt Daryl draw her closer, and she smiled softly. She knew where Maggie and Glenn were leading them, and she had a feeling it involved her crib issue. She'd seen Maggie and Enid scurrying around with items one would need for a crib. Also Maggie had been dropping land mines of hints, probing her on this and that, and Enid was not sly. They were precious, and Carol appreciated it. They made her feel so warm in this icy weather. She couldn't have asked for a better family. Blood of the covenant was thicker than water of the womb after all. They had proved that ten times over. She was elated to have them as godparents to her baby. They would make great godparents, as well as aunt and uncle.

As they neared the vacant houses, Glenn took point. Maggie walked beside Carol, chatting about their shifts on the wall much to Daryl's disdain. He didn't like that Carol was working the wall. Maggie was with her every time, but he still didn't like it. He kept holding she'd swell up and be unable to get up the ladder. She had a feeling she might wake up one day to a fat belly but until then she would protect her family. It wasn't like she would get shot on the wall. They had built a...half wall to protect them from bullets. It was tested and everything, but Daryl wouldn't be happy until she was off the wall. He was a grumpy man. Carol couldn't wait to see if he'd be a grumpy old man to her old woman... Heh.

Glenn walked up the steps, Maggie hurried to his side, and Daryl and Carol stopped at the bottom of the steps. The couple then explained what this gift was.

"We know that space has been an issue for you two lately," Maggie began.

"How'd you know that?" Daryl blurted.

"Because we have ears, and we can hear you bickering over it," Glenn replied. "You really shouldn't leave your boxers on the floor."

The tips of his ears went red and Carol smirked.

"Anyway," Maggie pressed on, "we know that y'all don't got much room in Rick's place, so the last couple of days, Enid and I have been makin' you a new home. Well, me, Enid and a lot of other people."

"Michonne, Sasha, me," Glenn listed. "Abe. Denise. Tara."

"We wanted you to be comfortable in your new life together." Maggie's grin softened with affection. "You're takin' a new step, and we're grateful you've made us a part of that, so we wanted to give you something in return."

"Wait..." Carol shook her head and eyed the pair. "You don't mean...?"

"Welcome home," that was from Glenn.

"Home?" Daryl repeated.

They showed them inside the house where Carol and Morgan had been having their sessions, only now it held pictures of their family, a roaring fire to warm the home, and it felt like an actual home. They had removed the excess junk, and they had filled it with little yet it was so much. The framed photos of Carol with their family were so precious to Daryl, and his favorite shot was of Carl touching her belly, and the baby kicked at that moment. His face... He was glad Eric had captured it.

"There's more." Maggie pulled Carol upstairs.

They had made up the master suite, and it was lovely. It still held room for Carol and Daryl's belongings, and Carol found there was plenty of room for both. She couldn't help but smile at the thought of having her own drawers again. She loved the man, but she could not share a dresser with him. He had no sense of order when it came to clothes, and he'd lost about half of her socks, not to mention how many of his he'd lost.

"You like it?" Maggie stood in the doorway, watching the older woman.

"Like it?" Carol faced Maggie. "Maggie, it's...amazing. I don't even know where to begin to thank you for this. All of you."

"C'mon." She nodded her head down the hall.

Carol followed her to a room directly next to the master suite, Glenn and Daryl were already waiting there, and Glenn opened the door for them. Carol actually gasped at the sight of the room, and Daryl gaped.

It was a nursery. The room had been painted a soft green with the few sonogram pictures they had hanging along the wall above the changing station. A rocking chair in the corner by the window with a knitted blanket by Eric draped over the back. A crib with a few stuffed animals across from the rocking chair. There were foam puzzle pieces and children's books. It felt like a child's nursery, and it brought tears to Carol's eyes.

"Oh, don't cry." Maggie embraced her.

She tried to speak but no words came out.

"This is..." Daryl exhaled. "Thank you. We... Just thank you." He pulled Glenn into a hug.

Glenn chuckled and patted his back. "You're welcome. I'm glad we could help."

"This is more than just help." Carol tried to calm herself. "I don't even know what to say."

"You don't have to say anythin'." Maggie squeezed her shoulders. "We're just happy you like it."

"We're grateful." Daryl let go of Glenn, smiling thankfully at Maggie. "Truly. We...needed this. We just didn't think of it."

"And I'm glad for that." Maggie released Carol. "We've been cookin' this up for months, woulda been pissed if you'd thought of it."

"She would've been." Glenn smirked at his wife. "I'd have gotten over it."

"Where did you find all of this?" Carol picked up a stuffed pig from the crib.

"Glenn found it." Maggie entered the room. "He brought it back with him."

"I found the crib and changing table when I was out with Rick, and I found the toys and stuff when I was out with Tobin." He cut a look at Carol at the mention of the father of the baby. "We have a bassinet in the master suite, and a high chair too in the kitchen. Even a play pin. Abe's building some gates for the stairs. He's gotten one done so far, but he has a lot of work to do, so...yeah, uh, that's everything."

Maggie nodded.

"We wanted to give you guys a home. You've fought so hard for us to have a home—all of us—and in different ways, and we wanted to give that back to you. Everyone has helped with this, because you guys deserve this. You don't have to thank us. You don't have to do anything but...enjoy it." He smiled at them. "You're home now, so...just be home."

And that only brought on more tears from Carol. Daryl wrapped her in his arms and kissed her forehead, and Maggie pulled Glenn out of the room to check on Judy. She was currently testing out the play pin. They let Carol and Daryl have their moment, and they took that time to have their own. Everything was moving forward now, and nothing would stop it. Time was both a blessing and a curse, but luckily they were on the sweeter side of it now. And soon, Maggie hoped, they would have their own blessing inside this sweetness.

– – –

Carol was playing with Judith inside the new house, Glenn said he'd help move any needed items but not pack them up, because he'd had enough of that the first time. So Daryl ended up with Maggie as his packing buddy. Or so he thought.

Instead Maggie guided him to the clinic where Denise and Michonne were. She had lost her smile and her air of joy and affection. A cold air surrounded her now, her eyes were serious and sad. She held herself like a warrior, like a leader about to send soldiers out on a mission they might not survive. This wasn't Maggie Rhee anymore. This was the leader inside of Maggie, the part of her that'd won over Hilltop. The part of her that could perhaps out rule even Rick himself one day.

Denise held herself tightly, uncomfortably, and she wasn't making much eye contact. This subject wasn't one she was on any level at ease with. She didn't want to be here, but there she stood. Ready to speak, ready to be heard, despite the unease they could all see on her face. She had come a long way, but awkwardness affected them all now and then. Perhaps more with people like Denise and Daryl than Maggie and Michonne.

And speaking of Michonne, she stood tall just like Maggie, in command. She was in charge of this little meeting, and there was no escape. It was happening, and it was happening now. He hadn't meant to avoid this. He'd just been preoccupied. At the end of the day, it didn't matter, did it? The baby would still be there and so would that redheaded cunt.

"We're here to talk about Pentaghast," Michonne announced. "I tried to get you sooner, but you've been a bit...distracted. And that's okay. A baby is something great to be distracted by, but we need to discuss this for the safety of our people and that baby you love so much."

"I know." Daryl nodded. "I should've come to y'all sooner. I just...wanted time away from those memories."

"That's understandable." Maggie set a hand on his arm briefly then looked at Michonne. "We don't have much to go on. I was tryin' to escape, so I was completely focused on that. I didn't hear anything but voices. The words were lost on me."

Michonne's eyes moved to the blonde woman who appeared to be shrinking herself. "What about you? Denise, did you hear anything?"

"I was out of it from the pain," she muttered, still not making eye contact. She could remember every second of being there, still feel the ropes around her torso, the weight behind Pentaghast's blows, and she tried not to flinch. She had never been in a situation like that before, and it was haunting her, but she remembered. God, did she remember. "But yes. I did hear some things."

Daryl drew closer. "What did you hear? A location? Some place they might be headed?" If he could find a new trail from a safe house of theirs, or perhaps he could find information inside that house. If he could find her and kill her...

"She wants to come here," Denise recounted. "She wants to take Alexandria. She doesn't know where it is, but she knew we had a home. A good home, with food and beds. Walls. She wanted that...for her child."

Daryl's skin began to crawl.

"Her home...their home...apparently was just like that camp. Tents, a fire, no walls. No security. She needs what she assumes we have for the future of her child—of her children. I don't think she'll stop until she's found us."

"Did you hear anything else?" Maggie pressed.

"They didn't use locations, said home was through the marked trees." She lifted her eyes. "They didn't know, I think. They just followed Pentaghast out of fear and need to survive. They weren't her people. They were her things. She likely has more of them. A lot more from the sound of it."

"So we have an enemy we can't track who has loads of people at her disposal?" Michonne cursed.

"I'm sorry. They didn't say anything more."

"It's not your fault." She sighed. "We just need to prepare for the worst. I'll get with Rick and Abraham. We'll figure this out."

"I'll come with you," Maggie suggested.

"No, you help Daryl and Carol move into their new home. We can't let this stop us from living, and the less people know, the better. Once we have a plan, a solid plan, we'll let everyone know about her."

Daryl's throat contracted. Everyone meant Carol, who he'd lied to.

Maggie nodded. "All right."

Michonne loosened her posture. "We'll send some patrols out—not too far, because we might need them if she happens to find us—and we'll ready every person here. We've come too far to lose anything else."

No truer statement had been spoken.

––

"Since our last muscle search was a bust, why don't we try again in the spring?" Denise dodged the puppy as it chased the ball Enid threw while reciting the process of stitching a wound. Repetition did wonders for the memory.

"Sure." She collected the tennis ball Carl had given her from the pup, pulling her into her lap and stroking her back. "Maggie and I will be ready whenever you give a date. Or maybe Glenn will want to come with us."

"I think Maggie might be caught up with some leadership duties." Denise sat on the floor in front of Enid. "But who can say what the next season will bring."

"Hopefully a healthy baby." Enid peered up at her teacher from her puppy.

"Yes, hopefully a healthy baby." She smiled at her. "And perhaps a sibling for you as well."

"Perhaps." She tossed the ball for the pup and watched her chase it down. "Or maybe that's already in the works."

Denise's brow rose. "What makes you say that?"

She shrugged. "I said maybe."

"You wouldn't say maybe without having some type of proof."

"Call it a hunch." She smiled. "So, what's today's lesson? After rescheduling a busted lesson."

"Not much. You've done great with all I've taught you, and there are some things we simply can't do, but I'll go over them with you. Who knows. Maybe you'll...see this thing out." She set the book in her lap that she'd been holding. "Or your student or students will."

"I'd like that, but...I don't know how the world will go back to how it was. We're all infected. I don't see how we can build anything with this...inside of it. Dying is always there, so is murder, not to mention suicide. And we only become more dangerous after death..." She sighed softly. "You can't build order when chaos is softly waiting in the wings."

"That's true, but we can try."

"We'll never have the world we used to," Enid imparted, "but you're right. We can try. A new world. Different but worth protecting."

Denise's smile widened, the puppy came scampering back and proudly dropped the ball in Enid's lap, and Enid scooped her up, kissing the top of her head. Broken things could still grown and anyone at any age could still learn to fight and to be brave. In the right mindset...or the right environment, positivity could grow and so could a hope of a better future. Doctors and babies and laughter weaved into the death and murderers and assholes. Good and bad went hand in hand, after all, but clearly, one didn't have to outweigh the other.

"Hey, girls." Tara entered the room. "We have some moving to do, and as much as I hate to break up this learning session, I hate being the only one to move boxes in the cold even more."

Enid laughed. "Let me put her in her kennel. I'll be right out."

"Thanks." Her eyes moved to her girlfriend, sharing a smile meant only for her. "You coming too?"

"I'll be right there."

They departed the clinic together, aiding Maggie and Daryl with moving his and Carol's stuff to their new home. Maggie and Daryl had done most of the packing, and the others were just lifting. They could have used a car, but manpower was cheaper and didn't waste much needed gas. Besides this way Tara could joke around with Daryl to embarrass him, and Glenn and Enid could stop to have snowball fights around the moving party. When Maggie got smacked with one of them, it was decided their items would be left momentarily in the snow while she sought revenge.

In total it took about and hour and half to move their stuff, but no one minded. Carol had whipped up some cookies for them, and they all crowded around the fire. It was the first night in the new house, and they had plenty of guests. Carol didn't mind. They had...space now, and it was filled with family. There was no better way to occupy a space than with love and soft teasing. This time next year, her baby would be among them, and god would that baby be swallowed by the love her family provided. She couldn't wait.

Meanwhile across town stood Michonne. She gazed at the now empty bed, the sheets where Carol had once tossed and turned, had cried and laughed and played with Judith, now neatly made. The drawers were empty, the lights turned off, the curtains pulled. The heat was on, but the room was cold. Vacant. She was happy to see them moving on together. It was great news for the. Truly, it was, but...she would miss them being her housemates. All good things must come to an end, and at least this way the end would make way for the beginning of a beautiful family.

"Though I might find you here." Rick walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"What should we do with this room?" She relaxed into him.

"I don't know. Maybe...we should just let it be empty for now. I'm sure we'll find something to do with it."

"I suppose we will."

He kissed her shoulder. "Come on. Dinner's ready."

She nodded and turned to head downstairs with him to join their kids for dinner.

– – –

Everyone had gone, the house was silent, and Daryl made sure the last of the fire was out. Carol lingered in the nursery, holding onto a stuffed animal and imagining putting her child down to rest in here. She buried her smile in the soft fur of the toy and placed it in the crib, turning to head to her own room. She flicked the light off on her way.

Daryl was coming out of the bathroom at the same time, smirking at her. "You're finally outta there?"

"For tonight." She smirked back at him.

"Trust me, we'll get our fill of that room once the kid's here."

"I know that." She entered their bedroom and faced him. "So why don't we...make the most of our time in our room before then?"

Daryl approached her. "What do you have in mind?"

"Well, we do have plenty of privacy now." She grasped his hand and laced her fingers through his. "And I've been curious about something."

"What thing?"

She arched a brow and reached up with her free hand to gently brush his bangs from his eyes. "Why don't I just show you what I have in mind?" She leaned up and kissed him.

Instantly Daryl felt it was different from their previous kisses. It was deeper, hungrier, and he wanted more. More of her, more of these kisses, and his heart began to race. He knew what this would lead to, and to say he was nervous was beyond an understatement. He wanted this. He wanted her, to feel her against him with nothing between them. He didn't mean just clothes. He meant no secrets, no lies, just them and their love.

But it wouldn't be just them and their love. It would be them and his lie, his secret. He remembered Rick's words to him: It's your relationship with her. It's a new relationship, and if you want to start it with a secret or a lie, that's up to you. He didn't want that. He didn't want this. The feelings brewing inside of him were riddled with guilt, and he didn't want their first to feel like this. He knew perfect didn't exist, but this wasn't what he had in mind for their first time together. This feelings made everything taste and feel and seem so bitter. So colorless and dull. He couldn't do this.

He pulled away from her and whispered, "Stop."

Carol frowned and let go of his hand, her other falling from his cheek. "What's wrong?" She searched his face. "Daryl, what is it?"

"I'm sorry." He didn't open his eyes. "I just can't."

"You...can't?" She stepped back. "Okay."

"It's not that I don't want to." His eyes opened and found hers confused and hurt. "I really do, but...I gotta talk to you first. Um...sit—sit down, please."

She found the bed and sat there, watching as he rubbed the back of his neck and grew pale. "What's going on? You're freaking me out a little bit."

"Umm." He seated himself beside her to keep from pacing up and down the room and making her more anxious. "Look, I need to tell you somethin', and you ain't gonna like it."

She locked her eyes in his. "You can tell me whatever it is. It doesn't matter if I like it or not. I'm here for you, Daryl." She grasped his hand. "I'm right here."

He smiled faintly and opened his mouth. "About Pentaghast—"

A scream of sheer terror cut him off, Daryl shot off the bed over to the window with Carol on his heels, and they saw what horrors had brought on such screams. A group had snuck into their camp and lit one of their own on fire, and judging by the number of lanterns they counted...it was a very large group. There was only one person who came to mind who possessed those numbers, and she had finally arrived in Alexandria.


	34. Chains

"Stay here." Daryl grabbed his gun and crossbow from the dresser.

"You honestly expect me to stay put when crazies are inside our home?" Carol hissed in a low tone as to not draw attention their way.

"Yes." He whirled around. "You are carrying our child. I don't want anything to happen to either of you, so stay put. Hide, if you need to. These people will shoot first and ask questions later."

"How do you know that?"

"It's Pentaghast. She's the trouble I ran into on the road. You were right. She's dangerous and nuts. I won't let her hurt you."

She nodded. "Go. I'll stay here."

He shouldered his weapon and glanced back at her before placing a rough, quick kiss to her lips and bolting out of the house. He found the streets in chaos. People were fighting, but the people with Pentaghast weren't killing them. It was as though that first aflame man was a warning to let them know they were here. Like ringing a door. They were gathering people up. The kids were being shoved in one direction, the adults in the other. It would seem the kids were a bargaining chip to force the parents to do what they wanted. Daryl was glad Carol had stayed hidden like he'd asked. If anything happened to any of these kids, he didn't want her to see it.

The flaming sticks were stabbed into the ground, the kids each held by one of Pentaghast's people, and Daryl saw Rick and Michonne were standing with the other adults. He didn't understand why until he saw her. All dolled up in a black crop top, heavy cargo pants and an unbuttoned winter coat. She was holding Judith in her arms, and behind her was Carl struggling against the weight of a man who held him at gunpoint.

Pentaghast stroked Judith's darkening hair as snowflakes caught in her own red strands, and she looked around her new home. "How cozy." She snuggled Judith closer. "But this weather is no place for a child. Sal!"

A woman came marching over to the redhead, fully clothed for the cold and armed to the teeth. "Yes?"

"Take them to that house over there. Chain them." She was pointing to the house they were using as a "jail". "Take the kids and put them into the truck."

They chained the adults together with actual chains, Rick struggled and so did Michonne until Pentaghast's cold eyes landed on them, her hand no longer stroking Judith's hair but her little neck. Her eyes were empty, revealing no soul behind them, and they knew she would snap her neck without a second thought.

"I don't like insubordination," Pentaghast informed them. "You're mine now. You'll do as I say. I'll see you in the morning, and so will this adorable child if you behave. If I so much as think you're going to overthrow me, I'll break her neck and leave her corpse to devour you."

Rick bit down on his tongue to keep from spewing threats he completely intended to keep. He would make her pay for this and then some.

The kids were loaded into the truck they had used to bring back their equipment from the hospital, and Pentaghast was "kind" enough to thrown in some blankets as it would sit out in the cold. She waved with Judith's little hand to Carl, knowing that was her brother, and she earned the same look his father gave him, only it was half as effective. The loss of the eye really did sour that look.

"Oh, my sweet." Pentaghast held Judith under her coat as she began to fuss. "You must be tired. Let's get you back to bed." Stealing her out of it was no way to wake a child, but oh well. She wouldn't live long enough to complain with actual words.

"Pentaghast." A woman approached her, giving a slight bow of the head. "We didn't find her. The ones we rounded up, she wasn't among them."

Pentaghast looked over her shoulder at the woman. "Find her." She bounded Judith on her hip gently. "And if you can't, slit the throat of every woman here, even the little women." She traced a line over Judith's throat.

"Yes, ma'am."

Daryl couldn't breathe. Carol. She was looking for Carol. Fuck. She was showing now too. It wouldn't be hard to find her if they searched every house. He had to do something. He had to get back to Carol and get her out of Alexandria. He had to take her someplace safe and come back to try and free Rick and the kids. He had to save her first, because it wasn't just her. He'd take her back to that cabin they were trapped in with the walkers with some supplies then come back here. He had some canned goods in the new house and come preserves she could snack on. She would be fine there, safe, and then he could get to Rick. He would formulate a plan. He just needed to—

"If the she you're referring to is me then look no futher." Carol stood in the road, no weapons, no protection, utterly vulnerable.

Daryl nearly dropped dead.

Pentaghast turned to fully face the woman before her, adjusting the child in her arms. She drank her in, studying her soft silver curls, the roundness to her belly, the beauty in her pale motherly face. She was beautiful, a light about her, and Pentaghast was drawn toward her. It was no wonder she was carrying life in this world with that glow. That precious, angelic glow. "Carol?"

"No." Daryl bolted out of his hiding place and flung himself in front of Carol, one hand on her hip to keep her from moving. "This is Michonne. She's Judith's mom. She just wants her kid."

Pentaghast's smiled at him. "My, my, look who it is. Hello, lover."

He repressed a sneer.

Carol hadn't expected to hear that, but she kept her face guarded. She had one goal here and one only. She would have kept hidden, but she couldn't with Judith being used as a bargaining chip. She'd rather it be her. She could defend herself and Judy. She could get her out of the arms of that bitch. "I am Carol." She walked out from behind Daryl after loosening his grip on her. He wouldn't hold her too tight. He was afraid he might hurt the baby, and she knew that, so she used it against him. I'm sorry, she whispered with her eyes as she passed him, but I have to do this. "And I'll do whatever you want, just let Judith go."

"Judith." Pentaghast studied the child in her arms then her eyes sliced back to Carol. "You can have her," she told the woman. "You just have to come take her from me. No tricks, from either of us, understood?"

"Carol, don't." Daryl grasped her arm. "Please, you don't know what you're doing. What she's gonna do. There's so much you don't know, what really happened on that run. Carol, please."

"It's late for please and don'ts, Daryl." Pentaghast has seen her, and she wouldn't let go now, so she might as well comply. Perhaps it would benefit her in the end. She could play the powerless pregnant woman for Judith's sake, for her family's sake. Carol pulled her arm free. "I can't let her hurt Judith." She'd seen from the window how she'd used Judith to subdue Rick and Michonne. She'd see how she'd thrown the kids into the truck to freeze to death. She'd seen how her people chained her family. She couldn't sit back and let this happen. Pregnant or not. She was not helpless. She had a plan.

Daryl watched the woman he loved approached the woman he loathed, and Pentaghast handed over Judith like she'd said she would. Daryl was about to reach for his gun as she was now an open target, but he was attacked by four of her people. Two of them grabbed his arms and restrained him while the others took his weapons, and he felt that all too familiar sting of a needle in his neck.

Pentaghast pulled a gun on Carol, and that was the last sight he saw.

– – –

When Daryl came to, he was chained with Glenn and Aaron away from the others, and he felt the effects of the drug still in his system. He couldn't ask what became of Carol and Judith. He could hardly keep his head up, and he could tell Glenn and Aaron had been drugged as well. He could see the concern in Maggie's eyes as she stared at her husband, and he could see Eric desperately trying to see past the people between him and Aaron. He didn't know why they were away from the others, but he had a feeling he wasn't going to like it.

The men and women were chained up separately, most of Daryl's immediate family were in the same room, save for Sasha, Rosita, Michonne and Francine. He couldn't see Tara or Denise either. Abraham and Rick were nowhere in sight, but they had them all throughout the house, so it was likely they were in another room. There were a lot of them, so it was no surprise they had to use different rooms. He just hoped the different rooms didn't mean something.

A woman in cargo pants and a turtle neck sweater patrolled the room with nothing more than brass knuckles, but she was buff, her aura reeked of soullessness and the desire for insubordination so she could kill. Her head was shaved as well, the light dusting of blonde all they could see, as well as hollow blue eyes. She had scars on her face and neck, and Daryl could make out nail marks. Likely one of her victims fighting for their life. He had a feeling it had been in vein, so he didn't linger on those scars.

A man stood guard in the hall with a semi-automatic, and he stood like a toy solider. He was older, but younger than Daryl. He had his hair grown out, tied back, and his steel gray eyes were locked on the woman walking the room. He was underneath her, and he was ready for any command she gave—both verbal and silent. Daryl would have to ensure no signals to kill came from her, or if they did, that he stopped them before anyone could complete that order. He'd try anyway. He was pretty fucked up.

The woman turned to face the group under her charge. "Pentaghast will be with you shortly. You'll learn the rules, and I suggest you take them to heart. There are no second chances."

"Now, now, Flissa." Pentaghast strolled into the room. "Don't get ahead of yourself. We haven't decided yet."

"Ma'am." She bowed her head slightly.

Pentaghast stood in the middle of the room, hands on her hips, and she scanned the people chained there. "I'll have Rodrick come for the trio there in a few minutes. I have one of the boys there already. He's a fighter, but that oughta to make it worth it."

"Ma'am?" She tilted her head to the side, confused.

"My dear, sweet Flissa." She clasped her cheeks and smiled. "It's your turn."

"You mean...?"

Her hands moved down so that her fingertips brushed Flissa's lower torso, and she nodded. "I know any child of you will be bathed in purity, and you have stood by my side through so much. It's time for your reward. You'll have the first pick."

"I don't know what to say, but I am honored."

She walked around Flissa and put her hands on her own stomachy as she did. "Soon, new life will be upon us." She spun around once she was at the end of the room. "I have four ready for the knife and soon four will be ready to give seed. We also have one of theirs. She'll provide us with a beautifully pure babe. I can feel that she will, and I will let Rod have her."

"Won't we need five then?" Flissa questioned.

She shook her head. "We'll kill the unborn for her."

Daryl's heart stopped. His baby!

Pentaghast's eyes rolled to the side where Daryl lied limp, and she smirked, knowing what was going through his head, and she bent down, caressing his cheek. "Do not worry," she combed her fingers through his hair to see his face, "you will be busy when this happens. Quite busy."

He glowered at her.

She lightly smacked his cheeks and straightened. "Be good, my dears, because if you're not, you'll die. You might think you're stronger or smarter or better. That heroes win in the end. But don't be foolish. We have you outnumbered. We have your weapons and your children. I will not hesitate to slaughter the babes, and I will burn this prison of yours with you inside to the ground if I feel I must. Do not trifle with me."

"What'll you do to us?" Maggie spat. "If we don't fight? If we obey? You'll kill us anyway."

"Some of us, yes. But some of you, I like. The dark haired one? I'll keep her. The silver haired one? I'll keep her, too. But you? Open your damned mouth again, and I will cut out that tongue and feed it to your husband."

Maggie growled at her.

Pentaghast smiled darkly as Rod entered the room with two others to take the trio to the clinic. "Don't worry. If I keep you around, you may be around the children your husband will help bring into the world."

Maggie paled, her eyes moving to her husband. "Glenn!"

"Maggie," he strained.

She tried to stand but the man who had hardly even blinked was on her instantly, his handgun on her throat, her head jerked back so it was even more exposed. He would kill her and leave her to turn, to kill her family. She turned the most lethal look on Pentaghast that said she was going to kill her.

Pentaghast blew her a kiss and followed her men out of the room to the clinic. She had the three of them restrained against the beds in the room with several beds, and she had them striped of their shirts and pants, but their undergarments were left in place. She ensured they couldn't move, and she checked their pulses, satisfied with the strength she found there.

"Once the slaughter is finished, your flowers shall bloom into a glorious garden. This place will became a new home for new life, and it will be marvelous. If you obey and don't fight, you will see your children. You may even be allowed to hold them." She crossed her arms. "If you are naughty and don't follow the rules, I will kill the person who means most to you. Carol, Maggie, Eric. And if that isn't threat enough, I will remove your limbs. If you continue to fight then I'll bring in the hungry corpse of the one you love so she or he may devour whatever is left of you. That will be the last sight you see."

"You bitch," Daryl hissed, unable to move his head due to the leather straps that held him against the bed.

"Good girls don't last long in this world," she retorted then turned to her doctor. "Make sure the feeding tubes are in place. We'll need them strong. Drug them if you must, but try not to. It...makes arousal difficult."

"Of course, Pentaghast."

"I'll be in my room with the babes, preparing. Keep an eye on the long-haired one."

Daryl heard her leave, and the doctor approached them. She was a small woman with wavy brown hair, and her hands shook as she checked his pulse. He could see scars on her neck too, but they weren't from fighting. They were wounds inflicted on her. She was pale and hardly had any weight to her. She wasn't one of Pentaghast's people. She was a slave to fear and abuse. If he could convince her he'd protect her, he might be able to get out of here.

"Tell Nyla to begin making the broth," the doctor instructed of the solider.

"I am not to leave this room," was all he said.

"Do as I say. I must tend to them. Do you truly want Pentaghast's offerings to be weak or sickened before they offer their seed?"

He huffed and departed from the room.

She sighed softly and moved over to Glenn, finding a tan line where his wedding ring once rested, and she clasped his hand for a moment before searching for his pulse. Glenn looked at the woman with hazy pleading eyes, and it brought tears to her own, but she knew better than to have a sympathetic heart. The scar on her throat told her she oughta to know better.

She left his side for Aaron's, and she avoided his eyes altogether.

––

Rick tested the strength of the irons clapped around his wrists, and he groaned softly. He didn't want to draw attention to himself. He knew the women on either side of the room were well armed, and he'd seen their leader. The way she held Judith, using her as a shield, grasping her neck to threaten killing her as though it were nothing. He knew she had no conscious. He knew she would do whatever she pleased if it fit her goals. Which was why he had to get the hell out of there and get to his daughter and Carol. He wouldn't let that bitch hurt Carol and her baby. Or any of their people. If he could get out and make it to the armory.

Michonne was across the room, sitting still and observing the women keeping guard over them. She had already moved so she was sitting on her chains, and all she had to do was slip her legs through so her arms would be in front of her, but it would rattle and cause Denise and Francine's chains to pull. It would probably hurt them, but she couldn't sit idle. She had moved inch by inch the last few hours, and she knew breaking free would require perfect timing, but she had to give it a shot. Her kids were in danger, her family, they were out of sight, but they were never out of mind. She would get to them and make Pentaghast pay for this.

"If you want to attempt an escape," the woman said to seemingly no one in particular, "just do it. I am sick of hearing your chains rattling. You're not being sneaky, dreads."

"Neither are you," the other chimed in at Rick. "Just sit still. I'd rather not kill you before the slaughter, okay?"

"You expect us to just sit here?" Denise lifted her head. "You hold us hostage in our own home, you tossed the kids into the cold, and you're planning to slaughter some of us? How can we sit still and wait?"

"You can't change those facts. You especially can't change those facts." The one who address Rick spat at Denise.

Tara sent the woman a foul glare. "You don't know us, what we're capable of—"

"You've killed and lied and stolen. You're not better than us, but we have rules. We have a way of preserving life in this decaying world. We bring purity. You only offer bloodshed and vengeance and terror." She shook her head. "You could never understand our endgame. You simply wish to live in this world. We seek to purify it."

Michonne exchanged a glance with Tara and Rick, and Rick wasn't even tempted to ask what the hell that meant.

"Okay, so we know you're fucking insane. Good to check that box," Tara murmured.

"If you're lucky," she said in a lethally vemonous tone, "you'll see just how pure we can make this world. But if you keep it up, I'll slice that sarcastic tongue out of your mouth, you rug munching fuck."

Tara's face went red, and she jerked against her chains. Her mouth opened, but she was hit in the face with the butt of the woman's gun before she could say anything. She felt her tooth crack from the force, blood pooled on the left side of her mouth, and she cried out.

"Tara." Denise couldn't reach her as she was at the other end of the line. "Don't!" She sat up. "Don't, please."

The woman who'd struck Tara was holding her handgun on her now, finger on the trigger, and her icy eyes sliced over to the blonde. "She's impure. She's flith. We cannot allow such...trash to exist in our world."

"No!" Denise begged. "Please! Please, don't hurt her!"

"We cannot let the unclean thing live." That was the last thing she said before she put pressure on the trigger.

Michonne instantly moved to block Denise's view, clenching her jaw, and Denise's eyes filled with tears. Rick tightened his grip on the chains, and the sound of a single bullet rang out in the building followed by Denise screaming. Those sounds sent every heart on the bottom floor racing, and ignited a flame inside of the hearts of those in the room. Not a single one of her people would survive, Rick vowed. Not a single fucking one.

––

The kids were huddled together in the back of the truck, Enid had given the blankets to the smaller kids who were placed into the laps of the bigger kids so they could share warmth, and Enid was trying to figure out how to escape the truck. She hadn't been trapped inside of one before, but there had to be a way. Some emergency lever in case some mover got stuck in the back of the truck alone. There had to be something. Anything! She would not freeze to dead inside this truck. She refused to go out like this. She had to save them. Somehow. She just had to think.

"You should just sit down and get warm," Ashley urged Enid.

"No way. If I sit down and get warm, I might as well sign our death warrants."

The blonde shuddered. "We can't get out of here. It only opens from the outside."

"That doesn't mean we can't find some way to escape." Enid whirled around. "There has to be some way. I will find that way."

"How?" The dark-hair boy shivered in Ashley's lap. His name was Todd. He was about ten.

"I just will," Enid swore and turned to face the door. "We found those glow sticks, didn't we? We have light, and we'll use it to find an exit. Worse comes to worse, I'll make them open the door. I'll...do what I have to...to get you all out, okay?"

"I don't like the sound of that." Ashley held Todd closer as the color in his face dropped another shade. "You don't have to sacrafice yourself for us. We can work as a team."

"I hope so." She met the blonde's eyes. "Because it's us against them the second we get out of here."

Ashley paled, but she nodded and handed Todd over to another girl who was younger than her. "You guys stay warm, conserve your energy. We'll...we'll get us out of here."

Enid and Ashley stood side by side, looking over the interior of the truck, and Enid was losing feeling in her fingers as time went on; Ashley's had gone numb long before due to poor circulation. They had no way of knowing if it was day or night, but by the hunger growing in their bellies, they could guess. They had to get out soon, before hunger made them too weak to even move, before one of them starved to death and became another enemy. That wasn't even adding in dehydration and the elements. It was the middle of winter in a metal truck. One of them could easily freeze to death, especially one of the little ones, and Enid didn't want that blood on her hands. Or her boots, as she had no weapon.

– – –

Pentaghast entered the room she'd made into her chamber, finding Carol where she'd left her with the babe named Judith. She removed her coat and gloves, stretching her arms to the ceiling, and she moaned softly. It had been a long, hard trip, and she was glad to be home. She knew it wouldn't be too far off, and she was grateful for that. She hated the cold, but it made for perfect pure babes. She knew that for a fact.

She neared the cage where Carol and Judith were. "Don't you look just comfy cozy?"

Carol didn't acknowledge her.

"Not so talkative now, are we?" She put her hands on her hips. "Do you want to know what I intend to do your people? To your men? To your women? To the children?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"There's always a choice." She patted her flat belly that her cropped sweater exposed lightly with her fingertips, admiring Carol's plump belly. "You have a beautiful bump. I'm sure you would have had a beautiful boy."

Carol held Judith closer.

"I know it'll be a boy. He would have had your eyes." She sat on the bed. "His daddy's hair and skin tone. Oh, he would have been beautiful, just...the more precious son anyone could have asked for."

Tears brimmed in her eyes. "Stop talking about someone you know nothing about."

"Fine then I'll talk about something I know everything about." She rose off the bed, her entire body language changed. "Glenn, Daryl, Aaron, Rosita will be offered to my people to aid and produce pure children. The ones I have selected will give the world innocence like it has never known before. They will cleanse this world of its scum and its undead. They will be pure of heart and pure of thought. They will be the new human race."

Carol stared at the young woman.

"I will raise them to be an army of perfect virtue. They will have a level of integrity like none of us have. They will be...amazing and joyous and dangerous. They will be...all that came before never could even dream to achieve. I will ensure that."

"But their existence will be unpure," Carol stated, tears rolling down her cheeks. "You're going to violate their fathers and mother."

"Sometimes things born of darkness...are really bathed in light." She snapped her fingers and in came one of her people. A biracial woman with light curls and a happy smile, holding a child about the same age as Judith in her arms. She had the same complexion as Pentaghast, the same red hair, but her green eyes and cheeks bones belonged to another.

"It's your mommy," the woman cheered to the child.

Pentaghast smiled at the child and took her gently from the woman. "Be sure to tend to her body. Burn it. Outside of town, I hate that scent."

She nodded and departed as quickly as she came.

What her? Carol wondered with panic choking her. Who were they burning?

"This is Ellie." She lowered herself down in front of the cage to display the child. "She's precious and good and truly a blessing." She placed her in her lap. "She was a product of darkness but her eyes shine with light. Her smile, her laugh, her...little hands. She is tender and pure. More pure than anything I've ever beheld in this world and the last. She will bring the world around. She will make it whole and healed again. She and her siblings."

"And Judith won't? My baby won't?"

Her eyes moved to Judith. "Her father was dark. Her mother wishy-washy. It is in her eyes. She will not produce light." Those orbs lowered to Carol's belly. "I don't know what to make of your spawn, so I will not allow it to exist. I am sorry, but it is what I must do."

"And you must have Glenn, Aaron and Rosita raped? Have Daryl raped?"

She smoothed down her daughter's hair. "Don't do to other what you yourself cannot handle. I handled it well, and so will they. They should considered themselves lucky. A part of them will help to cleanse this world."

"You're deranged."

"No, but I will carry new life soon." She stroked her belly. "The boy will become a man when the moon is full, and I will carry his child. An unadulterated baby. Can you imagine? They will be gorgeous."

"The boy?" Carol then felt sick to her stomach at realizing who she meant. "Don't. Don't do that to him. Carl's—"

"—a virgin," she finished. "And I didn't get Daryl's seed, so I will take his. No one else has gotten there first. That child will lead alongside my Ellie. It'll be a union to go down in history."

"Daryl's...?"

"I tried," she explained. "I had him right where I needed him to be, but there was no contact. That short-haired bitch got loose before I could harvest his sperm. It fell in my favor. I will carry Carl's child to term and give birth to a leader."

Carol wanted to throw up, but her stomach was in knots. She couldn't even swallow. Lori's baby boy would be violated in such a way that Carol knew all too well from a godless man, and he would have his first child with that violator. Carl would try to kill her, and it might get him killed or worse. He'd been through so much, and it was about to get worse. Lori's son... Carol's family... Rick's boy... Oh, God. The full moon...was only a few days away.


	35. Naivete And Knives

Glenn. That was all that ran through Maggie's mind. Glenn, Glenn, Glenn. Was he all right? Was he safe? Were they readying him for their sadistic ritual? Was he being brutalized? These questions and more swam through her head as she rested again Eric. She was so exhausted. But her mind was so awake, coursing with thoughts and situations she didn't want to witness or become a reality, but feared they had or were. Her mind and heart and soul wanted to know where Glenn was, where Enid was, how they were, and they all wanted to know how in fuck were they going to get out of this.

She was positive days had passed since their home was infiltrated, but she couldn't be sure. Her body told her days had passed but there were no windows nearby, so she had no idea. She had gotten a sense of her captors. Miller who was always with them or with the group upstairs, was a bit of a hardass. She wasn't fond of anybody. She always made bitter remarks and glared at everyone. She reminded Maggie of a less crude Merle. She had short curls with a scar along her jaw, and she carried an ax on her belt. She didn't have a gun, or if she did it was hidden. It wouldn't be surprising. Concealing a gun was easy. If they hadn't searched them all, Maggie might have gotten them free hours—or perhaps days—ago.

There was another one that sometimes occompanied Miller. His name was Roy. He was a lanky prick with short blonde hair and washed out brown eyes. He was a total creep. Miller often smacked him out of the room when he had his eye on her. Miller didn't approve of anyone eyeing anyone without Pentaghast's approval, and Roy didn't fit the bill anyway. It wasn't surprising. The creep didn't even know how to halster his gun properly, and it was probably empty. Maggie wouldn't trust him with the knife he carried, let alone a loaded gun.

A woman had come by possibly yesterday with a basket of food. She was small and squirrelly, offering them some type of bread. No one accepted, naturally, but she still presisted. She even left the basket of rolls on the floor where they still sat. Roy had taken a few of them when he swooped through before Miller cast him out of the room. He winked at Maggie on his way out, and she wanted to peel her flesh off. Or his.

"Was it really necessary?" Miller folded her arms over her chest. "It made a mess."

Reyes shrugged. "She was always ranting and raving about this or that. She wasn't stable. I couldn't put up with anymore. Pentaghast will just have to deal with it. We cleaned up the mess, and the loud mouth is safe. No harm, no foul. We're plenty strong in numbers, and we'll have more soon."

"Yes, because Ellie can wield a blade so well at two," she ground out.

"That religious bitch needed to go out anyway." Roy leaned against the wall, uninvited as always, as nobody liked him or wanted him around. "Me? I personally love a good lesbian, with the romantic lighting and music, you know?" He waggled his eyebrows.

"And yet talking to Ellie is more enlightening," Reyes told Miller. "I have to get back to my rounds. Neva's gonna try again with the others."

"Whatever. Soft hearts don't last long. She'll harden, or she'll fade. I don't care what happens just as long as I don't get paried with the mess. Or have to break the news to Jo."

She gave an understanding nod and headed back to the others.

Miller's eyes sliced over to Roy, who was running his eyes over the short-haired one again. "Is there not anything else you have to do?"

"No, I just got off the wall." He glanced at her. "It's my free period. I thought I'd come and—"

"Get the hell away from me," she cut him off. "And if you can't keep your eye to yourself, I'll remove them."

"You're so lovely."

"You know the rules, and you will never be worthy. If you try it again, she'll have you killed."

"Ooh, so scary. The little girl will have me killed. Oh, no!" He scoffed. "She's a fucking child, and I'm not afraid of her."

"Tell that to someone who might believe you." She took her seat, pulling her ax from her belt and sharpening it. "Go on."

"Fine, but only because we need to gather food. They're short on supplies."

"I know, Roy. I'm the one who made the plans to gather and to hunt."

He pushed off the wall and send a wink to Maggie.

Miller paused his sharpening her ax, he held his hands up and departed from the room, and Miller set her jaw. "He won't touch you, not while I'm here."

"How kind," Maggie dryly replied.

"It is kind. He likes to play with knives. He'd slice you to pieces." She looked at the woman. "I think he has a thing for biters. There have been...incidents...and trust me, what's left is less human than a biter."

Maggie turned away from the woman and rested her head on Eric's shoulder, closing her eyes and sighing.

Eric bumped his head on top of hers, and she smiled softly inside. He would have grasped her hand, but they were chained behind his back. He didn't have the strength to pull his legs through. He was fatigued and weak. He needed food and water and Aaron. He had none of those things, and hope was dimming.

––

Neva stood before more of the other group, seeing them all weakened and leaning against each other. She gripped the basket tightly and hoped they would just eat. It was packed with protein and would keep them strong. It would keep them from starving. She understood why no one would take it, but it was just food. They had to see that. Eventually, perhaps, they would, but she couldn't say. Pigheadedness ran deep in this group if the boys she was tending were any example. Again, though, she could understand.

She approached the woman with dreads and lowered herself down, extending a roll to her. She was met with only a foul look that told her of all the ways she was going to kill her and these people. She could see she would get nowhere, but she had to try, so she moved to the next.

"You're wasting your time." Reyes sat with her back against the wall on the far back wall, her new partner by the door, silently observing the room. "They won't take it. Let them starve like the animals they are."

"We're all animals," was what Neva muttered under her breath.

"Just go back to the boys and fatten them up."

"They have plenty of food."

"And the girl?"

"Her too." Her eyes moved to a blonde with glasses and a dark-haired woman with who were pretty much crushing the women between them to hold hands. It made her smile inside. Love. What a beautiful thing.

"What good does feeding us do you?" Michonne inquired. "You'll just kill us, so why waste the supplies?"

Neva blinked and lowered her eyes. "If I'll just kill you...why make you suffer through hunger too?"

Michonne narrowed her eyes. Compassion? Hmmm...

"Besides it's old bread." Lies. "None of ours will eat it. I figured better to give it to you than to waste it."

"And they're ungrateful assholes. Big shock." Reyes rested her arms over her upraised knees.

"Shut it, Jayne," her partner said. "And just go, Nevaeh. They won't take it. You have more important duties than trying to feed them. Don't waste your breathe. We have a lot to get done before nightfall. Go."

She sighed and set the basket down, leaving the room.

"And you have better things to do than insult her kindness. Don't act as though you weren't kind too, once."

"Once," Reyes spat, "and never again."

She scoffed. "Sure."

––

Pentaghast paced her room, her boots loudly clomping with each movement, and she wore the more absurd outfit for the middle of winter. She'd cut from under her breasts down and also cut the left part away of what used to be a grey sleeveless dress, leaving it as a crop top with the right side running down to her knees and paired it with black jeans. She was playing with some tool with such fascination, and it reminded Carol of just how young she was.

"Hmm." She turned to Carol then. "Do you want an update?"

"On what?" Carol didn't even look at her. She held a sleeping Judith and stared at the wall, one brow arched, lips pursed, drained.

"Your man." She smirked. "I went to see them this morning. Jo should be sending a report on how it's coming, but do you want my version?"

"No, just your head."

She chuckled. "I like you."

"It isn't mutual."

"Pentaghast?" Jo knocked on the door frame then, drawing her attention. "He's fighting."

"Of course he is." She hummed softly and spun around to face Jo. "Sedate him then bathe him, cut his hair and fingernails. We'll deal with the teeth later."

Jo frowned somewhat. "Teeth?"

"Oral hygiene is important."

"Right." She nodded and departed to tell the others what to do.

Pentaghast giggled. "How precious was that? Oral hygiene? Ooh, that was a good one. We're actually just going to pluck his teeth out."

Carol flinched.

"Don't worry. He's on a fluid diet anyway." She sat on the bed and crossed her legs. "I think I'll keep them around until after my child with the boy is here. I'll take the Korean one then. He looks like a warrior—strong, enduring, fierce—and he has gentle eyes. He's compassionate and soft. It'll blended well. He must be a fine leader."

"You won't touch him or Carl. I assure you."

"Who's going to stop me? You?

"Maybe."

"Huh." She stood up and walked over to the cage, rattling the bars. "How? You're all locked up."

"Don't get cocky. I've been in plenty of cages before."

"But you've never met anyone like me." She lowered herself down to be at eye-level with Carol. "I know exactly how much of a threat I pose and how much power I wield. It isn't arrogance, Carol. It's knowledge. You give them what they need to survive, and you have a following. You give them hope and a chance to cleanse this world? You have an army. A loyal, fierce army."

"You have a group of fuck ups and twisted assholes. That's no army."

She shook her head. "You wouldn't understand. Of course a perfect little housewife like you wouldn't understand."

"Perfect? Oh, little girl, you have no idea what you're talking about."

"I am not a little girl."

Carol's icy eyes sliced into Pentaghast's. "You are a child, and believe me when I say that won't make me hestiate."

A crude smirk. She rose and walked over to the door. "If you hear screaming, it's your boy."

"Leave him out of this."

"Why should I?"

"Because this is between me and you."

She smiled sweetly. "Soon, I'll be busy being between someone else. I'll let you know how it goes." She closed the door on her way out.

Carol turned her eyes back to the wall, a tear falling free, and she stroked Judith's hair, kissing the top of her head. She shut her eyes to forget the world, if only for a moment, if only for some clarity. If only for if only.

––

Jo tiptoed into Pentaghast's room that late afternoon, when the lady herself was currently positioning the men and handling the children of this group. Ellie was fast asleep on the makeshift bed Jo had made for her, and now that only left Carol to tend to. She had been planning this for days now, since they arrived here, and she was glad to finally have the chance. It'd been a long time coming.

Jo saw the woman was asleep with the infant Judith in her arms, and she edged over to her, lowering herself soundlessly down onto her knees and peering over her, her eyes landing on her belly that the little girl Judy was mostly covering. She reached out a hand to touch it but halted. It wasn't her place. Habit, perhaps. She would...have to refrain from doing that.

She dropped her hand to her lap. "Carol?"

Her eyes snapped open, finding Jo's face instantly in the dimly lit room. "Come to kill me now?"

She frowned. "No, no of course not. I—I just came to check on you."

"Check on me? What for? Is the head nut finally ready for her ceremony?"

"I brought you some food." She stood up and moved over to the nightstand, taking a plate and small jar from its surface and returning to the cell door. "It's deer meat in gravy with butter peas. I mashed some into the apple sauce for the girl. I don't know if she has teeth or not yet, but Ellie loves it. She has about five teeth. She's working on a sixth."

"You'll kill me with poison then?" she muttered softly, her throat dry from lack of water. "You'll kill my baby that way?"

"Kill your baby?" Her eyes widened in shock. "No! No, I would never harm an infant. That's the exact opposite reason why I brought you this food. It's been days since you've eaten anything of substance, and that's not healthy. I know Pentaghast lets you have water and a few bites of fruit here and there, but you don't eat them. I've noticed that you give them to the girl. She needs to eat, but so does your son."

Carol scoffed softly. "My son?"

She nodded. "I overheard Pentaghast talking about him."

"What about him?" She moistened her lips. "How she'll rip him out of me? How she'll make me watch him die? All the terrible things she intends to do to him?"

"I don't know what she intends to do with him or you," Jo confessed. "I don't get to be informed of plans. I'm just here for Ellie."

"You think that absolves you of their crimes?"

"My hands are clean. At the end of the day, I—"

"Don't defend yourself to me. I don't care what you think you didn't do. I know the facts. Your group is...vile, brutal and twisted. Your group."

"How many others have said that about your group?"

"I don't know. They're all dead."

She averted her eyes.

"What's the matter? You're scared of the word dead?"

"There are plenty of things I'm scared of, but I know...Pentaghast will protect me. My mother will protect me. I just have to protect Ellie"

"How can you protect her if you can't protect yourself?"

"I didn't say I couldn't, just that others tend to do it for me."

"You know there's no turning back, right? However this plays out...there's no turning back."

"I brought you food." She blinked hard. "You need the protein, and Judith needs her strength. She's a growing girl. Like your son, so here." She began to stab chunks of gravy soaked meat with the fork.

"How do I know Pentaghast didn't have whoever made that poison it? If not to kill me then to kill my child?"

"I made it." She met her eyes. "Me and my mother."

"Your mother?"

"The doctor. She's tending to a few of your people."

"Is that what you're calling it? "Tending" to them? I'd say it was preparing them for a hellish nightmare."

She lifted the fork up. "It's safe to eat. The entire camp had this for lunch. It's tasty, too."

"Do you know what your mother is tending to them for?"

"They're wounded?" She reached in through the bars. "Eat more, talk less. I don't have a lot of time. I don't think Pentaghast would approve of me doing this. I didn't ask for permission."

"Wounded?"

"Eat."

Carol seized her wrist, Jo cried out and dropped the fork with a clutter to the floor inside the cage, and Judith stirred. Carol twisted her wrist slightly, Jo whimpered, and Carol inhaled. "Are you really so naive?"

"You're hurting me."

"I should do more than just this."

"Please." She whimpered again. "Please, let go."

"Please?"

"Yes, please let go." She winced.

She scoffed. "I barely have the strength to stand up, and you're begging me to let you go, because this hurts?"

"That's why you should eat, dear heart."

Carol released Jo who fell back onto her butt, her eyes moving to Pentaghast who in the door with a plate in her arms.

"We need you to be strong." She set it on the bed above where her daughter was resting, and Carol took that moment to snatch the fork from the floor and move it out of sight. "And as much as I'd prefer you not to bruise my people, if it helps you to eat then by all means."

"Why feed me now?"

"Because I have plans for you, and everything starts soon. I want you to be there." She helped Jo to her feet and bent down in front of the cage, collecting the plate Jo had brought in and sliding it under the small space between the floor and the door. "When Flissa mounts Daryl, I want you to be there to witness it."

Jo held her wrist tenderly in her other hand, listening to what Pentaghast was saying. "When she..."

"Take Ellie to her room. I'd like a moment with Carol. Alone." She didn't turn to look back at Jo once. "Now, Josphine. Your mom wants you too."

Jo swallowed but obeyed. She carefully picked Ellie up and carried her from the room, pulling the door shut with a final peek at Carol's face. It revealed nothing, and yet that nothing revealed everything. She hurried to find her mother.

"We've trimmed his mane, bound his hands, washed his skin—every scarred inch of it—and soon we'll be yanking out his teeth." She studied Carol. "Would you like to keep one? He has such pretty teeth. I'd understand."

"Then you'll understand that I am going to kill you," Carol replied. "Me and me alone."

Her eyes darkened. "I could bust his back and leave him to writhe in agony when his seed is taken. I could remove his limbs and hold his child just out of reach. I could let him witness the death of your spawn. I could force him to watch as one of my men do to you what was done to me years ago. They would be rough, might even kill that spawn for me." Her eyes were hollow and pulsing orbs. "There would be blood, and he would scream. You would scream. It would burn and ache and sting. The agony of each thrust...tearing you apart...tearing your baby from his safe haven... There's so much blood involved..."

Carol went from panicked to wildly disturbed to guarded over the course her words. She gripped the fork and wished that there wasn't meat on it. If it wasn't there, she'd stab it through her throat. With the meat stacked onto the end, she wouldn't get very far. It also wasn't very sharp.

Pentaghast abruptly stood up, grasping her knees and turning on her heels in a bent and awkward position away from Carol, the dim lighting casting shadows over her face. "So much blood..." But those were words Carol couldn't make out yet Carol saw her touch her own stomach, and when she moved her hand, it was shaking. Her eyes widened as if she saw something Carol didn't. She staggered from the room without another audible word to Carol.

Carol saw the shine of the poor lighting reflecting on the of baby food with Ellie's name doodled onto it. She reached out and grasped it, adjusting the girl in her arms. She gently bounced her knees to get some life into the girl who had been far too silent for...days, apparently.

"Hey, sweetie." Carol unscrewed the top and used her fingers to feed Judith. "I don't have a spoon, sorry."

Judith didn't seem to care as she gnawed on Carol's fingers for more. Carol smiled at the sweet girl and continued to feed her, her own stomach growling and pleading for her to eat the floor Jo had brought her. She knew the child meant no harm to her and truly as blind to the plots of Pentaghast and the others. But that didn't mean she trusted her "mother" to not try and harm her baby. Her baby.

Her baby wasn't the move active, but it had been moving here lately, quite a bit. It loved when Daryl touched her belly, or when Maggie did. She was pleased with all its movement and growth, but the last couple of days she felt nothing. She didn't feel a wriggle or a hiccup or anything. The baby was silent. Her heart was aching from so many things and that was topping at number one.

After feeding Judith, Carol removed her sock to make a weapon out of the heavy glass jar. She stuck the jar inside and could use it fight at a slight distance. She had long socks on, but it only stretched so far. If she put enough force into it and with the fork...

Her eyes fell onto the plate once more, and saliva pooled into her mouth, her lips parting in a soft, primative growl, like a cub hunting for food for the first time, and she couldn't resist. She picked a piece of tender meat off the plate and inspected it with sight and smell before engulfing it. It didn't taste odd, just like seasonings and like...well, deer. She was sure it was fine. Or hoped to hell it was as she polished off yet another handful of meat and peas.

– – –

Maggie felt a shift in the room as she curled up against Eric, sleeping due to the fact that she'd blacked out from sleep deprivation, and she felt someone handling her chains. She heard it too, but she couldn't will her eyes to open. They felt glued shut, and she was out of it. She wasn't entirely positive if it was reality or not. She was...drained on every thinkable level.

When she was suddenly jerked to her feet with hands on her hips, she knew it wasn't a dream and she had to wake up. And she was woken up by the lovely asshole who'd taken her. She was shoved face first into a wall, the hands on her hips now moving to grope her ass and then back up and around to fondle her breasts. Her body reacted instantly, and she grasped what she assumed were his balls and squeezed as hard as she could, and he stumbled back.

"I knew you'd fight." It was Roy.

She turned, feeling blood on her brow, her eye already beginning to swell from impact, and she glowered at him.

"But it's always worth it." He closed the space between them and ran his arms down her sides. "I've had my eye on you for weeks now. God, surveillance was the worst—watching you and not being able to have you." He grasped her short hairs, burying his face in them and breathing in her ear. "I've been waiting too long for you."

Maggie cringed.

"Well, it's not all about you. It's about you and your little...what? Sister?" He caught her chin, and those green jades were burning back at him. "When I catch up to the truck, after Flissa leaves it, she's next."

He tried to kiss her then, but Maggie bit his lip open. He chuckled and wiped the blood off, clamping his hand down hard on her throat. She gasped in and sputtered. He undid the button of her jeans and pulled them down but not far enough for to do anything to her. Yet. He took out a knife then and slice her from hip to hip, and she clenched her teeth to keep from crying out. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction, not even as the blood slid down her skin and seeped into the black cotton of her panties.

"What's her name, Maggie? Your little sister? The little cute brunette?" He brought the knife up to her cheek and smeared her blood there, moving it down to her mouth. "I'd like to not say the wrong name when I take her. That'd just be rude."

Maggie felt the tip of the blade scrape against her front teeth as he painted her lips red, and he kissed her once more, all tongue and wet, and she pursed her lips, the metallic tang of blood a step up from his breath.

"I think I'll pop that cherry of hers before I carve into her. I am a gentlemen." He tightened his grip on her throat. "Will she yell out for you? 'Maggie, Maggie, please help me! He's hurting me, Maggie, please. It hurts, please'." He chortled laughter. "Or will she just cry?"

And in her mind all that was playing was Enid in the woods, all alone, out of breathe, trying to run from this fuck. She had nothing, no weapons, no tools, no backpack. He would pin her down, she would fight, fight just like Maggie was right now, but she was small. She was starved, and he was a grown ass man who worked out and was well fed. He would hurt her. He would destroy her. She could see her now, leaves tangled in her beautiful, long hair, tears streaming down her small face, fists pounding onto his chest as he had his way with her...

"You're...the...only...one...who's...gonna...be...cryin'," Maggie strained.

That earned a triumph smirk. "Maybe she won't cry. Maybe she just come and come and—"

Maggie snapped and kneed him in the balls, the knife sliced her lip and her gum, but he stumbled back. She headbutted him and slammed her boot into his gut, he dropped the knife and hit the wall behind him. She roared as she bashed the heel of her boot into his head, and he collapsed backwards. She straddled him and pressed her bindings—a pair of handcuffs—into his throat. He struggled, his face shifting from white to red to purple as he tried to push her off, but she had such rage inside of her from his comments, from the unwanted images in her head.

The dark part of herself that took over when she lost Beth returned, and she couldn't stop pressing the small chain of the cuffs into his throat, almost feeling his hyoid being crushed from the impact. She wondered if Beth cried for her. When she was with Daryl, when she was in that hospital all alone at night. She wondered if Beth had begged for her to be okay, for her to be with their family, to be on their way to break her out. Beth was tough, but Beth could only take so much. They could all only take so much.

Roy had stopped struggling minutes ago, those washed out eyes were cast skyward, hollow and glazing over, and Maggie was still strangling, still raging. And in the back of her mind, a voice told her to run, to get moving. This was her chance. She had to make it count.

She pushed herself up, taking the knife that had skid across the floor in her hand, and she turned to Roy, spitting blood onto his body and crushing his skull in. She wouldn't let that fuck come back to haunt her.

She whirled around to hurry back to the others when she heard a familiar voice from the other entrance. It was Miller. She cursed and turned towards the door beside her. She pulled it open without a moment's hesitation and fled into the glaring light of day.

She groaned and stumbled off the porch, tripping on the steps as the sun blinded her. She crashed onto the grass and nearly lost her weapon, but she collected it and herself and moved back behind the bushes to adjust her eyes. She heard Miller from where she rested to gather herself. She was running on adrenaline and ready for whatever Miller threw at her.

Miller actually laughed. "'Bout time karma got your ass. Karma being a little brunette but hey, can't argue with that." She moved onto the porch and inhaled. "Hey, girlie, I appreciate the work, but you have no real chance here. Come back inside. I won't even tell the boss it was you."

Maggie scoffed soundlessly and readied herself for Miller to round the corner, pushing herself onto the balls of her feet.

"If you want to do this the hard way, I'll just kill you now and save myself the trouble. It'll even the score. Mostly."

Maggie was about to pounce when a crashing sound came from the house behind her, like the window had been knocked out, and Miller went to investigate. Maggie frowned and was about to go after her when she felt something hit her boot. It was a rock, and she looked up to find Morgan at the top of the wall, motioning for her to come. She'd never been so happy to see him, honestly.

She hurried over, he lowered a rope and helped her over, though it was just like gym class and she had little trouble. He jumped down first then helped her down. He pulled the rope free and tossed it aside, hiding the evidence of her escape.

"Are you all right?" He touched her cheek, seeing her lip, her brow and even her hips.

"I'll be okay." She held her wrists out. "Can you get me out of these?"

"Yeah." He'd taken a key from Rick ages ago, and he swiftly did the cuffs.

"Thanks." She rubbed her wrists then fixed her pants, wincing at the pain and knowing it'd be infected before the day was up. She squinted up at Morgan, blood dripping down onto her collarbone. "How'd you get out?"

He handed her a handkerchief to wipe the blood and stop its flow. "I need you to come with me," was what he said instead.

"What?" She'd accepted the handkerchief and gaped at him.

"I'll explain on the way. I need your help." His body wasn't facing towards home but away. He intended to lead her away from Alexandria.

"Do you know what's happenin' inside those walls?" Maggie demanded, thrusting a hand backwards towards the wall. "What's happenin' to our family?"

"I know. I've been keepin' watch."

"Just keepin' watch?! You didn't think to take action?"

"And do what? It's one on forty or more." He made a calm down gesture with his hands. "We need numbers, which is why you need to follow me. We don't have a lot of time. If you want to save your family, save Glenn, then follow me. We have to move."

She glanced back at the wall then at Morgan and closed her eyes. He began to walk off, picking up his staff on the way, and Maggie exhaled before turning to chase after him. Turning away from her family, away from her husband, in hopes that he had a plan to somehow get the weapons and numbers they needed to overthrow Pentaghast and her people.

Forgive me, Glenn, she thought to herself as she fell into step with Morgan, interrogating him on his plan, it looks like I'll be a little late.


	36. The Thing You Fear The Most

Nevaeh checked the temperature of the men while they slept, sighing softly to herself and moving to Daryl. She tried to call them numbers, call them by hair color, call them by anything other than their human given name, but she couldn't. She couldn't separate them. They were men. They were husbands or boyfriends. They were friends. They had families. One of them was...about to become a father of his own choosing. Another had taken in a child, who, while she looked like his wife, wasn't his or hers. The bone structure didn't match, but they were as much parents and family as she and her own daughter.

Her eyes fell on Daryl. He hadn't been sleeping, and despite the drugs they'd forced into him, he still didn't look rested. He had dark bags under his eyes, his cheekbones were accentuated in the worst way due to the broth diet Pentaghast kept them on to keep them alive but unable to fight back. His hair had been chopped off past his ears, bruises marred his body from the pressure of those who held him down forcing the haircut onto him. He looked less like a human and more like a human shaped blueberry muffin. The scars didn't help his case either.

She brushed her fingers gently over the shaved tips of his once long hair and down his bumpy cheek to his swollen jaw. Someone likely had accidentally or purposefully hit him during that. She doubted it hurt unless it was poked at, so she moved her hand and parted his lips to check his temperature. She wrote down the normal results and was about to leave when she heard movement. Legs against the material of the sheets.

"That's the fourth time in, what? Four days?" It was Daryl. He wasn't sleeping, and she wasn't surprised.

"Five," she corrected.

"Five days..." He rolled his head to the side. "What's she waitin' for?"

"I honestly don't know. Her...plans change with the winds." She gripped the clipboard in her arms. "Perhaps the prospect of a forever home is throwing her off. I can't really say, though. It's just speculation. I was... I'm not too close to Pentaghast nor am I trusted with her plans. I only hear it from the grapevine."

"So, you're not loyal to her then?"

"I'm loyal to one person and one person only." She didn't make any effort to look at him, for fear of her truth, of her weakness and heart, being revealed.

"Your kid."

She shuddered and steadied her voice. "What makes you think I have a child?"

"The way you take care of us, the way you touch my wounds," he replied. "It's a mother's touch. I know...some mothers who have that touch."

"Humph. Cute, but incorrect."

"You're no lair, Doc."

She bit her bottom lip.

"You ain't loyal to her, so why help her? She's dangerous. She's moody and insane. She could kill you simply because you're lookin' at her wrong. Or she could kill your little girl. You won't ever be safe with her alive."

"You don't think I know?"

"You sure as hell aren't doin' anything about it."

"What can I do?" She whirled around. "I'm no fighter. I barely have the strength to restrain a man who's squirming from the pain of his wounds. And the one time I did try to rebel, I nearly lost my life. Had my daughter not stood up for me, I wouldn't be here. I'm not going to risk her again. I don't care what happens to me. She is everything, and if I can keep that little monster happy then I can keep my daughter alive. I don't like it. In fact, I hate that a child not even half my age believes she can control me... But...then again, she can't, can't she? With the wave of her little pinkie, she could have me killed for real, and my daughter might be next. I need to be here to ensure that doesn't happen."

"Or...you could let us go, and we can ensure she won't kill anybody ever again. You and your girl would be free and together."

"It's not that simple. It's you three against an army. They have your weapons, your people, your medicine. You have nothing, not even clothes on your back."

He smirked. "You've thought this through."

"I always do, but dreams are for children." She stepped back. "You might as well stop trying to fight. Maybe...one day...she'll believe you're compliant and let you loose to be with your child... Perhaps then you could make your move."

"One day? Maybe?" He shook his head. "I don't have time for maybes and certainly not for one days. The only child I want to be around is the one that I have no clue how its doin'. My kid is in the same boat as yours, only your daughter can fight—mine can't. Its unborn and vulnerable. Please, you gotta let me go. Before she can hurt my kid, before she kills the woman I...I love. Please."

"Your child's a girl?" Nevaeh's eyes lifted.

"I don't know, but if you don't help me, I won't ever know. I'm beggin' ya here. I have...nothin' else, no plans, no moves, no cards up my sleeve. I'm...desperate and terrified. I'm...just a father tryin' to protect his family, please."

Tears burned in the back of her eyes, and she stepped back again. "Daryl..."

"Please."

"I—I'm sorry. I can't. I just—can't." She hurried out of the room.

He let his head fall back onto the pillow and stared at the ceiling, feeling his own eyes burning. He couldn't even struggle anymore. His wrists were wrapped to cover the wounds his bindings inflicted, his body was heavily drugged, and he was exhausted. He was truly out of move. He had no cards up his sleeve. Hell, he didn't even have sleeves. And he even less hope. Fuck all.

Glenn swallowed, his throat dry, his lips cracking and hard to part due to lack of water. They weren't given any through the night, but he had to speak. "How many times...does that make it now?"

"About ten."

He nodded and dragged his teeth over his lip, feeling his teeth catch on the cracks, even opening one. He could taste the blood. "We'll just...have to...make our move...when they come for us."

"We'll give 'em hell," Daryl agreed.

Glenn smiled and peered over at Daryl. "Maggie and Carol...are gonna give them more...hell than they can handle."

"Don't count Eric out," Aaron mumbled.

Daryl chuckled. "'Course not."

"He's one hell of a shot," Aaron smirked, eyes shut.

"Wrapped up in one non-threatening, vest-wearing package," Glenn retorted.

Aaron laughed. "Wait till I tell him that. He'll kick your ass."

"He gets us out of here," Glenn promised, "and I'll let him."

Aaron smiled weakly, though his eyes burned, his heart ached. The thought of escaping these bindings and winning with how things were now seemed implausible. False dreams and false hope. They brought such pangs to his heart. He wouldn't let them slip through his fingers, however. They can take his clothes, his hair, but he refused to let them take his hope. That was something he could cling to until the very end.

––

Morgan had guided her deeper into the woods, the frozen forest floor snapped and crunched under their boots, and her wounds began to sting as they ventured on. The day had burned away, leaving only the freezing night and the crescent moon with its vanishing beams.

Then finally they arrived. Morgan instantly tended to Maggie's wounds with what little supplies he had at his makeshift camp, Maggie was given a gun and a staff as he had no knife to offer, and he guided her deeper into the woods. She wasn't dressed for this weather and sadly Morgan had no supplies to offer.

"How did you escape?" Maggie inquired as Morgan handed her a can of sardines to eat.

"I wasn't inside the walls." He'd made a fire to keep Maggie warm. "I'd stepped out. I needed some...time alone."

She didn't press. "And you've been watchin' them?"

"I knew I couldn't take them on. I wouldn't make it through the gate without a bullet to my brain or worse. I had to lie low. Plan." He set his staff across his legs. "I was gonna try and spring y'all from that house. I'd been watching the patrols, and I had it timed, but you beat me to it."

"You don't even have any weapons. How did you expect to win?" She licked the oil from the sardines off her fingers and tossed the empty can to the ground.

"Brute force," he answered. "Numbers. They only have four people near the house. The majority of their numbers are near the armory and the pantry and tending to our crops. They're makin' plans to expand, searchin' for food. I overheard some of their plans."

"What?" Maggie saw him pale.

"I know...about Glenn." He averted his eyes. "I'm sorry."

"What happened?" Maggie shot up. "What'd they do to him?"

"I don't know the whole story, but they forced them...to undergo some type of baptism. They were dunked into boiling water out in the freezing cold, their hair cut, their fingernails trimmed. They were drugged if they resisted. Which, of course, they did."

"What else?"

"They're makin' their move with them tomorrow. Their leader...the red-haired woman...was yanking Rick and Spencer around by collars. She assigned Rick to Glenn, Spencer to Aaron, and..."

"And?" Maggie pushed.

"Judith...to Daryl." He shook his head. "She's also going to carve out Carol's baby for her own...use."

"What do you mean by that? Assigned? Use? What use? Assigned for what?"

"I don't know. That wasn't brought up. Her voice carries, so I know I didn't miss it."

She clenched her hands into fists. "I'm going to wring her neck."

"So will Rick." Morgan met her eyes. "She had Carl out there. She's...too...close to him."

"She's gonna rape him," Maggie informed him. "And have Glenn, Daryl and Aaron raped too. I don't know why. I don't know her twisted mind, but I don't care. We will stop her. We can't sit in the woods anymore. We have to go. Right now."

He nodded. "It should be here."

"It?" Her brows knitted together.

"You didn't think I dragged you here for sardines, did you?" He smirked and rose. "Put the fire out."

He led her through the darkness to a road, they ducked down behind the trees, and soon yellow light spilled out over the white-tinted road. It was the truck. The one they had hauled the supplies back in. The one Pentaghast had ordered the children be forced into it.

"The kids are in there," Morgan informed her.

"Enid." She jerked forward somewhat but remained hidden.

"We can cut our time back in half once we have the truck," he continued. "It's just the driver."

"Flissa," Maggie nodded, recalling what Roy had said to her. "Leave her to me."

Morgan didn't say anything, but she knew he didn't approve.

The truck came to a stop, the passenger door opened, and the pair exchanged a look. That look burned away into disgust when a body was kicked out of the passenger side door followed by Flissa, who left the truck running, and stepped onto the body as she exited. She lit up a cigarette and bent down, dragging the body out in front of the truck, where they could see a severely beaten up man, who—Maggie noted—looked a lot like Roy.

Flissa smacked his bloody face until his eyes shot open. "Hey, sleeping beauty." She plucked the cigarette out of her lips with her now blood-covered fingers and blew smoke in his face. "We're here." She rose to tower over him.

"Please," he sputtered. "You don't have to do this. P—please."

"How adorable." She took another drag, leaving two bloody fingerprints on her cheek. "Pleading. God, I miss pleading. This group's all hardass and boring. Give me some more."

"It—it was just—just a misunderstanding is all. I assure you."

"A misunderstanding? Wow, you're a shit lair." She reached into her pocket. "But you can't lie through your teeth anymore." She spread her fingers wide and his teeth sparkled in the headlights, still bloody and still containing parts of his gums. He looked at them in horror and would have felt his mouth were his arms not broken. Broken? Flissa thought to herself with a smirk, releasing more smoke. More like shattered. "What's the matter? I know you still got a tongue. Use it. It might get bloody though. It was a real bitch to yank 'em all out, but what can I say? It's been a boring day for me."

"You—you fuckin' psycho!" He spat with such force that blood from his wounds shot out and ran down his lips as he whimpered.

"At least I don't play with little girls." She lifted her boot to his chest. "You and your kind aren't welcome among us."

"Go ahead and kill me. You can't hurt me any worse."

"Wanna bet?" She dropped her cigarette onto his coat and stepped back as he lit up like a newspaper under a candle. Soaking a piece of clothing with gasoline was her favorite move. She jumped over when he tried to flail her way, and she chuckled. "We might kill them, but we don't touch kids. Death is inevitable, prick. Scarring kids that way? That doesn't need to happen."

He only replied with howls of agony.

"You get a little taste of your eternity on earth. Be thankful. Most people don't get that lucky." She turned on her heel to get her pack out of the truck to hike back home. She needed the fresh air and the silence. Maybe she'd kill a few lame brains on the way. If things went as planned tomorrow, she would be off her feet for months and killing wouldn't be allowed, so she might as well get it out of her system now.

However when she turned around, she was met by the small brunette who slammed a thick branch against her skull with a furious roar, and the world went blurry as blood ran down her temple. Morgan went to unlatch the back of the truck, and Maggie thrust the staff down through Flissa's head, panting heavily as her wild eyes met wide, hollow ones. There was no need for a fight, simply an end.

"Maggie." It was Morgan.

She stumbled back and exhaled, spotting Enid stumbling towards her. Her eyes drank in the busted lip, the black eye, the blood on her brow and the blood staining her top. It wasn't her blood—on her shirt anyway—and judging by Flissa's words, it was that burning asshole's blood. Enid was one of the kids he tried to mess with.

"Oh, God." Maggie ran over to her and caught her before she collapsed onto the ground, embracing her tightly, and smiling against her hair. "Enid."

"Maggie." Enid gripped her shoulder blades tightly.

"Shh. It's okay. I'm right here." She stroked her hair. "You're safe, and we'll make them pay for it. I promise."

Morgan checked on the other kids to give them a moment, and he moved to the front to find a bag on the floor. He opened it to find supplies for a trip back to Alexandria. He wondered how she'd get back. She intended to walk back and leave the truck here. The kids would have frozen to death, or starved to death. He wasn't sure which would come first, to be honest. The nights were...unbearably cold now.

"Here." Morgan handed some salted meats to Maggie and Enid, who had cuddled up in the front seat with the small first aid kid Flissa had in her pack. "I've shared the rest among the other kids. They're regaining their strength."

"Thanks, Morgan." Enid accepted the meat while Maggie cleaned the cut on her brow.

"I've gotten water into most of them," he told Maggie, "but some of the smaller ones need Denise. The older kids did the best they could, but...they need medical attention."

"Then we better get back." Maggie tossed bloody cotton balls out and spread ointment cross Enid's brow. "We've been resting for a couple hours, and they can sleep on the way back."

"You'll rest," Morgan told her. "You've been up for hours, so why don't you go join them? They have blankets, and it's not too uncomfortable."

She opened her mouth to protest.

"They'll need you in the fight tomorrow," he cut her off. "I'll need to get Denise to the small ones immediately. There's some medicine in Flissa's pack, and it might not be the right kind, but...they need Denise, and our people need both of you. You're fighters. You'll be vital to reclaimin' our home."

She nodded. "Okay, but I'll stay up here with Enid and you."

"That's fine." He closed the door and went to the back to give the kids a flashlight and make sure they were secure and warm enough. He assured them they'd be home and in their own beds soon enough. He secured the latch and headed to the driver's side. His eyes fell on Flissa's dead body being devoured by the man she'd killed. He started the engine, pulled forward, killing the walker, and he directed the truck towards home.

Enid rested her head on Maggie's shoulder and closed her eyes, and Maggie relaxed against the cushioned seat and shut her eyes, forming a plan on how to invade Alexandria. An idea popped into her mind as her head hit Enid's lightly, the exhaustion that'd been creeping up on her for the past...however many days swallowing her.

Morgan was glad to see them asleep, because when they woke, it would be blood and bullets. He didn't want that, but he couldn't stop it either. Some people just couldn't be saved. He realized that after Pentaghast talked so joyfully about killing Carol's baby. If he came across her before Daryl or Maggie did, he might finish her off himself. All life was precious, and at some point, hers was too. Sadly she took that life and let it become something...dark and twisted, so there was no guilt to be had. Not for her, not for her people, and while he could fight, he would rather get Denise to these kids. They were the future of this world, and from the look of it, Pentaghast was destroying her people just fine on her own.

– – –

Singing. Someone was singing. Carol could hear it as real and as nearby as her own breathing. She'd fallen asleep sometime in the day after eating, but the sound of singing caused her to rouse. It was soft, monotone, sad, and it seemed like the same song was being sung over and over. She couldn't pry her eyes apart to view who was singing, so she let herself drift deeper as the sound began to fade into the silence.

Carol woke again to the sound of the muttering, high fevered breathing and rustling, and her eyes fell on Pentaghast in the darkness. Judith was still wrapped in her arms, snoozing like a horse, and Carol adjusted her eyes in the darkness. She couldn't make out what the young woman was saying, but she knew what emotion was tied to those uttered words: fear. She was having a nightmare. She was terrified.

"No...no...no..."

Carol held Judith closer to her as Pentaghast's voice began to raise in volume, and she knew that tone too. It was denial. She was reliving something. Something awful that had happened to her. Carol couldn't imagine what would have happened to her, but she had an idea. Given how she'd spoken to her yesterday, she had a very clear idea of what could be causing this nightmare. She supposed she could use this to her advantage. Perhaps, if she played it just right.

A light came on in the room, it was dim enough that it didn't hurt Carol's eyes but light enough that Carol could see Pentaghast without straining her eyes. She was covered in sweat, writhing on the bed, wincing and growling without noise. Carol could tell them apart by the curl and curve of her lips. She wondered what Pentaghast was seeing, but only for a moment. After it had passed, her focus returned to Judith, who luckily hadn't woken to the sounds.

"Pentaghast." It was Josephine. "Pentaghast." She climbed onto the bed and set a hand to the young woman's forehead, shushing her. She brought a small pouch to her nose, and Pentaghast began to settle. "Easy, easy."

Her eyes opened and fell into those hazel eyes. She slowly sat up, her clothes sticking to her, and she inhaled deeply, frustration oozing out of every sweat-covered pore. She pushed hair out of her face and growled gently.

"Thank you, Jo."

"No problem." She smiled lightly and peeled hair off her cheek. "I'll run you a bath."

"Please." It was a whisper of a child: vulnerable, confused, helpless.

Jo slid off the bed and down the hall to draw a bath for her, ensuring she had the proper salts to sooth a tired person's soul before preparing the water.

Pentaghast rolled her head to the side, her eyes flickering over to Carol, and she saw that she was awake. She set one bare foot on the floor, then the other, and she rose off the bed, the nightgown she wore almost completely soaked and clinging to her body. Carol could see a knife on her thigh, and Carol's theories were once more confirmed.

"What are you looking at?" This wasn't the leader Carol had met outside all those days ago, holding Judith's life in her arms. No, no, this was the little girl Carol saw peeks of previously. This was a child lost in past pain, helpless and small, barely clinging to strength, to hope, to life, even, perhaps. This was who she truly was. Strip away the guns, the armor, the crazy eyes, this was who Pentaghast was. A lost little girl.

But that did not justify her actions. "You," Carol replied. "I'm looking at you."

"Do you like what you see?" she snarled, though it wasn't threatening. Her voice was raw, her eyes bloodshot.

"No."

"Why not? Because it makes me a little harder to kill?" A crude smirk. "Or do I remind you of someone?"

"You do," Carol remarked. "You remind me of myself." Not the personality, but the reactions: fear, sweat, nightmares, tremors. She endured that with Ed and then when she'd lost her Sophia. Both times. "It's not a pretty picture."

"Life isn't pretty," she spat. "Life is pain, and you will find that out very soon."

"You're a little late to that party. I already know that. I've lived it, I am currently living it, and yet...here I am."

Pentaghast faltered and huffed, turning slightly away from the older woman, and she began to untie the knot on her nightgown, peeling herself out of it. Carol saw her body without a stitch of anything on, and there were scars everywhere, bruises and wounds that made the mind wonder how. She was no beauty, and yet she was no beast as well. All Carol could see was a lost and wounded child guided astray by the world and perhaps wicked people, and Carol made a decision then. One she would stick to until this was over.

Pentaghast turned and stretched her arms up, spreading her fingers and gazing at the spaces between them. She released a breath and walked over to Carol, bending down, covering her nude body with her knees as she held them tight to her chest. She studied the woman then reached in through the bars of the cell to touch her, and Carol tensed as her hand crept along Judith's spine. She made little sounds, like ones you'd use to entertain an infant as she did so, and finally her hand met Carol's body. Her collarbone, and Carol saw fascination in the girl's eyes.

Her hand moved down from stroking Carol's collarbone to her arm and then to her belly, what little of it Judith wasn't covering, and she curled three fingers and her thumb inward, leaving her index and middle finger free. She tracked them up and down Carol's belly before uncurling her fingers and placing a hand entirely flush against her stomach. She turned her head to the side, her eyes hollowing, her hand going numb for a moment, and she jerked back as if burned by some unforeseen being. She held her hand to her chest and backed up, shaking her head and muttering to herself.

"Pentaghast." Jo stood in the doorway. "Your bath is ready."

"It's about time." She strolled out of the room, composed, head held high, and she didn't once look back.

Jo looked over at Carol and Judith before taking a blanket off the dresser and nearing them. "She keeps it cold at night. Here."

"Do you really think a blanket is going to help this situation?"

Jo lowered her eyes. "It is the best I can do for now." She stuffed it through the bars and smiled at the sleeping babe in the woman's arms. "I'll bring breakfast for you both in the morning. The babies need to eat, both of them."

"So it'll have a full stomach when it's carved out of me?"

Jo frowned. "I have no control over her actions. I only watch the child. I am here for her."

"Do you think that separates you from them?" Carol asked once more.

"No, but my actions are my own. I know...what you can't even imagine...about Pentaghast...and about this world. I will help to preserve human life."

"But this isn't humane," Carol replied.

"Jo." Miller stood in the doorway. "Don't feed the animals. Come on."

She didn't move. "Why?"

"Your mother wants you."

She shot up. "Is she okay?"

She jerked her head to the side. "Come and find out."

Jo hurried out of the room to find her mother.

Miller looked at Carol, gave a bitter smile and closed the bedroom door without a single word. Carol exhaled deeply and rested her head against the wall, and she tried to wait until Pentaghast came back but the exhaustion had other plans.

"..."

Mmm. There it was again. The singing. It was a little louder this time, and it was still monotone. No, not monotone. It was...sung with a dead tone, as though the singer was empty inside, as though they had no emotion to put into the song. They were vacant of all emotions, of all hope, stripped naked and left afraid.

"I walk through the valley of the shadow of death. And I fear...no evil because I'm blind to it all. And my mind, my gun, they comfort me," she sang, "Because I know I'll kill my enemies when they come. Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell on this earth forevermore. Still I walk beside the still waters and they...restore my soul, but I can't walk on the path of the right, because I'm wrong."

Carol opened her eyes, for a moment, seeing blonde hair, a decorated wrist and the hand attached stringing on a guitar, smiling happily as her sister joined in, but as the haze of too much sleep passed, she saw the truth. Pentaghast sat on her bed, wearing her usual ridiculous outfit for winter, rocking herself back and forth. It was to sooth herself, Carol knew, and it wouldn't have bothered her if she hadn't see Judith in her arms.

She looked down to find Ellie in Judith's place, chewing on a donut teething toy, and her heart nearly fainted dead away.

"I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, and I fear no evil, because I'm blind to it all. And my mind, my gun...they comfort me, because I know I'll kill my enemies when they come. Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell on this earth forevermore. Still I walk beside the still waters and they...restore my soul, but I can't walk on the path of the right, because I'm wrong..." Pentaghast's eyes were staring straight forward, and she wasn't blinking. She was on the verge of a massive breakdown, and it was plain for all to see. She was only rocking more and more, singing in the same dead tone, and Carol couldn't calm her heart.

"...said he come to save the world from destruction and pain," she continued, her voice losing even more life, if that was possible, "but I said how can you save the world from itself."

She moved Ellie to the blanket Jo had given her and stood up, her sharpened fork ready to be used if she had to. Somehow, someway, she would stop whatever followed this breakdown.

"...I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, and I'll fear no evil 'cause I'm blind." Tears began to roll down her cheeks. "And I walk beside the still waters and they restore my soul, but I know when I die...my soul is damned."

Carol frowned at how she sang that word. Heartfelt and afraid. Afraid of what, though?

"I was pregnant," Pentaghast began, speaking to no one in particular. She was still crying, still, rocking herself, still vulnerable and still very much on the edge. "I was pregnant."

"With Ellie?" Carol asked, feeling out the lock to see if she could utilize the fork that way.

"No." That stopped Carol for a moment. "With my son."

"Your...son...?"

"Before this all started...I was happy and in love and pregnant with Balen. It was either Balen or Baylor, but...Balen just felt right. He was the most important thing in my life, but...then the world was swallowed by its own wrath and the undead became our wardens." She had yet to blink, those tears falling endlessly down her cheeks and onto her shirt, onto Judith's light hairs. "My family and I were traveling...trying to get to safety for the baby's sake. Dad...had a plan to get to some fort, but...it didn't... It wasn't possible. I was too close to having the baby, and the trip would have been too much."

"So, you stayed?" Carol used this moment of brokenness to work on the lock.

"We stayed. We made a nice little home in the woods. We had shelter, a stream for fish and for boiling water. We had guns and protection. We thought we were safe." She shook her head. "Safety is for fools. Safety is lies your mother tells you so you can fall asleep at night. Safety...is the world's biggest and cruelest illusion."

Carol didn't dare speak now.

"They came...in more numbers than we had. They didn't bother to kill us. They used my mother and me, forcing my father to watch them...violate. They took turns. They laughed. They spat on us. They...they were monsters..." She started to shake. "They—they just keep going...even after I started to bleed...even after I felt him slip out of me... They just threw me over and kept going.

"And when they were done, they slit my mother's throat then smacked my father around. They stabbed me...in the stomach over and over. They didn't even have the guts to cut my throat, not like they had my mother." She inhaled sharply and tightened her grip on Judith. "They took my baby...and they kicked him like he was a football. He landed in the road...split open like a watermelon..."

Carol closed her eyes and felt sick.

"My dad went to my mother then to me. He was crying so hard. He didn't stop crying. He just plucked...a boulder off the ground and let the stream take him." She nuzzled her chin on Judith's hair. "I didn't move. I just waited. I waited and waited and waited for death, for the eternal peace to come and take me from this hell, but it didn't come. It never came.

"So I got up. Mother was dragging herself towards me, but I stopped her. I stopped her and then I went to my father. I let him be while I bathed. I let him be while I packed. I left him behind as I went on surviving." She looked at Carol now. "I didn't find them at first, but...I found Flissa's group then Miller's...and then I came across a little town where a bunch of cars and dead bodies were. I even saw the asshole who went first in a bar...brains blown out. I was upset, but his idiot friend had direction to their camp on him. And I slaughtered them like the pigs they were."

"I don't understand. You were rape yet you're raping my people? You're killing them?"

"Don't do to others what you yourself cannot handle," she repeated. "I survived the rapes. I survived losing my child. I survived for a reason, and I found that reason a month after I killed those fuckwads. That's why Ellie exists, why hope exists, why I exist."

"So, in between slaughter and finding groups," Carol inquired, "when did you learn you became the thing you feared the most?"

"Story time is over." She stood up, carefully adjusting Judith in her arms and nearing the cage. "You didn't notice when I exchanged the babes, did you? You were out cold. You ought to rest more. If you want to survive, too, you have to rest and strong."

"Why would I want to survive the murder of my child?"

"To be the nanny to mine, of course. This was a test. Ellie adores you, so my next child will too naturally." She smiled brightly, eyes still red-rimmed and cheeks still stained from her tears. "Jo can't do it all, so you'll raise my next baby. I like you, Carol, so I'll keep you." She giggled and hugged Judy to her chest.


	37. A Mother's Mercy

Pentaghast walked through the house with Judith in her arms, growing slightly fond of the child. She was quiet, unlike Ellie. She was content to be held and to be fed. She liked to have her hair stroked. She was sweet. It would be a shame to kill her, but it had to be done. At the end of the day, she was a stranger's child, and she couldn't find a place for her. Death was the only option, the only release and goodness she could give the child. How cruel her parents were to concieve her.

She sat down on the couch and let the girl sit beside her, watching her. She moved her gazed upward and out the window where the others were preparing for the ceremony. She had the boy moved into the house. He was out of it from the drugs, but they would wear off by the time she was ready. She had waited long enough, and it was time. After the conception, they would all die. She had no use for them then. It would be the final straw, what broke any hope they had, and then it would truly be their home. This was the moment she had been waiting for since she walked away from her parents. It was finally becoming a reality. She was coming home. Finally.

Judith tumbled off the couch, Josephine had just come to tell her the news about Maggie escaping and hurried to catch the toddler while Pentaghast just watched her fall. Judith began to fuss at the sudden downward motion, Josephine held her close and soothed her, and Pentaghast walked out of the room.

"Ssh." Josephine stroked her head and the child began to calm. "It's okay. It'll all be over soon." She looked over her shoulder at Pentaghast, who smiled widely at their general Fin and went over their plans for the ceremony. "I promise."

She carried the child upstairs to her bedroom where Ellie was resting in her crib. She placed Judith down in the play pen and bent down, her fingers still being held by the child's, and she smiled softly. She had made a vow to a woman that she intended to keep. Her meaning might not have gotten across to her, but it would. She'd see. Sometimes death was the only option. A permanent rest. She believed it'd been long enough since they rested.

––

Neva entered the clinic to find Fin standing in the middle of the room, wearing that toothy smirk that instantly brought a smile to her face. It reminded her of Josephine's father—rest his soul—and it made her feel safe, relaxed. And for a moment, she felt safe and trusted and comfortable. She rarely let her guard down around these people, but Fin just brought her walls down. She'd saved his life and patched him up countless times. They had a bond. A friendship. She knew he had a different bond with Pentaghast, and that was why she forced her guard to be up, even just a little. She prepared herself for the worst and braced for impact. There were no good men here. They were either aligned with a nutcase or a coward, who played a part in the murder of countless innocents, who stood back and watched. She was a shadow that could change the course of many lives, but she remained in the shadows. A coward, a whimp, a blood-covered fool. Maybe one day she'd learn.

"How are they?" Fin inquired.

"Good. They had their first real meal this morning, and they ate all of it. They're gaining enough strength for tonight."

"Great. We'll send the girls in soon to give them a final washing and to ready them."

She gripped her clipboard tightly. "Is that all you came to ask? You could have just sent someone."

"No, actually it's not." He stepped towards her. "Pen has...made a change in the claims."

"Meaning?"

"She wants...Jo to take the curly-haired one. She intends to keep the pregnant woman after all is done, and she'll take Jo's place for a time."

Her stomach churned. "What?"

"I know it's sudden, and I don't want it either, but she's made up her mind. Josephine will have given birth by this time next year. She is adamant. I tried to sway her, but... I'm sorry."

"She's just a kid." Her voice was tight. "She can't have a child. She is a child."

"I know."

"She's never even had sex before. I—There's no way I can just let that little cun—"

"Watch your tongue," he interrupted her, stepping closer and lowering his voice. "I have been beside you and Jo since your first day, and the girl is like a daughter to me, but watch your tongue. Not everyone is as understanding as I am when it comes to Jo."

Her eyes burned. "My daughter isn't a rapist. She won't touch him. You know that. She's too gentle. Pentaghast will beat her for disobeying her. If not worse."

"I know. That's...why I have a plan." He peered at her, and Neva narrowed her eyes. "Just hear me out. I know...some of the boys who fancy Jo, and they could—"

"No. It's her decision. It's her body. I won't have us discuss ways to get my daughter pregnant. I won't let this happen."

"Unless you want to stand in, it's going to happen. Pen isn't fond of you. She won't listen to you. Hell, she doesn't listen to anybody."

"Fin." It was Miller. "I need to have a word with you.

"I'll be right there." He looked at Neva. "I'll be back, okay?"

She didn't look at him or speak, but she did whisper to herself once he was out of earshot. "Maybe I won't have a word with her." Her eyes moved to the cracked door where Daryl, Aaron and Glenn were being held. Perhaps she wouldn't be having words at all, especially as words meant nothing in the end. Actions... They were everything.

– – –

Morgan parked the truck about a half mile from Alexandria, he checked on the kids who were resting, and he was reluctant to wake Maggie. She looked so peaceful, all snuggled up with Enid, but she had to be woken up. They all had to wake up. This was war. People were dying. People were being tortured. It was time...he accepted that. Mercy wasn't always an option. All life was precious...at one time, but not anymore. They had taken their lives and made them into something vulgar, something that threatened innocents. He couldn't stand by, not with an unborn child on the line, not with his family, his people, on the line.

"Most of the kids have never held a gun," Maggie told Morgan. "I'll just take Enid with us. I'll give Ashley one of the guns, just in case. She's the oldest after Enid, and she's used a BB gun before. It's the most experience out of all of them, so I'll take it."

"I doubt they'll come this way, but they might have some runners in their group. I'll make sure Denise and I are prepared."

"We'll need to get to the armory first," Enid commented. "I can fit in through the window, get use some weapons and take care of whoever is inside."

"We'll do that together," Maggie remarked. "Then we'll free the others."

"Leave that to me," Morgan stated. "You just secure the armory."

"You sure you won't need backup?" Maggie searched his face.

"I won't. They don't have as many people watching our group as they do watching our guns. I'll send the majority of the others to you, and I'll take Tara and Abe to get the rest at the clinic. Daryl will want to get to Carol and Judith immediately, so he'll need backup. Pentaghast keeps a large number of men in her house."

Enid nodded. "I'll stay and work on cleaning up the streets. Maggie, you should go back him up."

"I'll take Sasha and Rick with me. He'll want Judith and Carl, and I have a feeling that bitch has Carl in her house too." Maggie checked the chamber in her gun. "We'll have to use our knives to keep it quiet until we're ready."

"Gotcha." Enid pulled one of the two knives Flissa had on her. The other was a machete, but Maggie had already called dibs, so she went with the hunter's knife. "I'm ready."

"Then let's go."

Maggie spoke with Ashley about protecting the others, giving her a brief lesson on driving should any runners from Pentaghast's group come in overwhelming numbers. Morgan and Enid slid the back of the truck closed to keep the kids from being exposed to gunfire and any walkers that should be drawn their way from the noise of battle that were about to sound.

"Aaron showed me this way back when Glenn hadn't returned home after things went to hell with the horde." Maggie opened the gate for them. "I took care of the walkers with him once things calmed down. It was an escape route just in case."

Enid smirked. "Sounds like something I'd do."

"It's where I got the idea, actually." She set a hand on her hair and smiled affectionately at her.

Morgan close the gate once they were all inside, casting one last look at the world before turning away. He didn't like to break rules that brought him long sought after peace. He didn't like to kill. He didn't like the sights or sounds of war, but war had come. War was here, in his home, holding his family hostage. War wasn't one to play around. He knew that. In war, decisions had to be made. They had to quick and sure. He had to be quick and sure. The time wasted on second-guessing could result in someone losing their life, and there was no going back from there. There was no rewind. Dead was simply dead, and he wouldn't let that happen. All life was precious, and sometimes...fighting was a necessary evil. Sometimes one had to fight in order to keep those precious lives going. It felt like a loophole but so be it. War had come and made a hell of his home, and he could fight war. He would fight war and all of its little bitches.

Maggie dropped her hand from Enid's hair and guided them through the murky waters. She remembered her emotions the last time she trudged through these cold waters, walkers at every turn, Aaron fighting to protect her. She had been foolish, putting her baby at risk like that, putting Aaron at risk like that. She didn't regret it. She wanted to get to Glenn. She had to know if he was all right, or if he was dead. She knew that in this world they didn't get to know. They didn't get closure. She hated that, but she had to know. It was Glenn. She couldn't lose him, too, not after all of the other losses. She wouldn't lose him, and because of that drive, she found a way to conquer this new enemy. She would show these fuckers the exit, with a gun or a knife or just her fist. They were not welcome here, and they would never return. She would make them pay for what they'd done here and at any other camp. There were no heroes here, but she would ensure they were no villains either.

Enid kept her knife close as they neared the exit. She was ready to fight. She wanted to make them pay for what they'd done, for what they'd tried to do to her and the others. She was ready to retake her home. She wasn't going to let anyone chase her off, because it was too difficult or her odds of survival were slim. This was her home. Her family was here. They needed her to fight. Glenn needed her to fight. She couldn't run anymore. Just survive somehow now meant to stay and fight. It meant to survive as a human, not just saving her own skin and turning tail. It meant to remain herself, to be true to herself and her family, to be strong and to protect. It wasn't an armor to wear to keep others away. It wasn't the last thing her parents said to her. It simply was words to remind her that there was so much more to surviving than running. It was a tough lesson to learn, but Carl, Glenn and Maggie helped her learn it. She would never forget, and she would never run if she could fight. Odds be damned. These people were her family, and she would fight for them. Fight for them in a way she hadn't fought for her own parents. She wouldn't relive that mistake, and she would survive. Somehow, someway, with the aid of her family and friends, because that's how people survived in this world—by pulling together and fending off all those who dare to threaten their lives and the lives of their loved ones.

Maggie scanned the area before helping Enid through and then Morgan. They knew their respective plans and split up. Maggie and Enid dove for cover behind the houses, grateful for whoever thought to build them so close, and for the big ass bushes every two feet. It make crossing the place a lot easier. They could cover more ground quickly, which was great, until they neared the armory.

There were at least ten of her people on patrol on both sides, two people at the door to the armory, and two people walking around the building. It looked pretty bleak until Enid saw a break in the patrol, and without even speaking bolted towards the armory. Maggie nearly called out to her, but hastily caught her tongue and stayed down. She had been watching a different part of the patrol and missed what Enid had saw, so she'd wait and catch up to her.

Enid found the window she had used many times to break out of the armory since it doubled as Olivia's home, and she crept inside. She could hear people inside, and from the sound of it, it was a lot of people. They were getting ready for something, and she neared the door, tiptoeing carefully, and she could hear them talking about some ceremony. She didn't want to know, because they would all be dead before it could happen.

The group dispersed, Enid peeked out the door and saw the hallway was clear, so she kept low. She kept her weapon close, and she slipped down the hall, where she found a man on guard in front of the pantry door. He was facing with his back to her, leaning causally against the wall. Apparently nothing exciting happened on pantry duty. Lucky her.

She tackled him from behind, stabbing her knife into his throat to keep him from shouting to anyone, and he went down, choking on blood. She jumped up when he collided with the floor, thrusting the blade through his skull to keep him from coming back, and she searched his body, finding a Glock. She checked the clip and found it was fully loaded. She smiled to herself and heard movement up ahead. She inhaled, wiping the blood from her face and rose. This was her home. She wasn't going to let anybody take it from her, not today, not ever again.

She moved on, finding a pair standing guard in front of the armory doors, and she didn't want to alert those outside or inside the armory of her presence here, so she ran her eyes over the hall, spotting the "decorative" pillows Olivia left lying around the house. She thought they were cute, but Enid thought they were stupid and better left on a couch. Sure, a kitty playing with yard was cute, but not in the foyer or the hallway, however; right now they were a god sent. A makeshift silencer.

She snatched it and readied herself, summoning ever ounce of fight in her, and she pushed off the wall.

Outside Maggie had caught on to their pattern and moved into position, bouncing on her back leg to build up a boost for her attack, and when the patrol of two came, she sprang up and slammed the bigger one against the house. She dropped like a stone, a blood splatter left on the house, and the other had readied her gun, but Maggie was already on the move. She grasped her arm and twisted it, just as the asshole who first kidnapped her and Denise and Daryl had done, slapping a hand across her mouth to keep her cries of pain muted.

The gun fell to the ground, Maggie snapped her arm like a twig, and the woman's eyes rolled to the back of her head as she blacked out. Maggie took out her knife and ensured they were gone before collecting the gun and waiting on the next patrol. It was a group of three, but she had a gun now, and a silencer, so she didn't have to play the quiet game. She wanted this over, and a gun made things end pretty damn quickly. This wouldn't be a war. It would be just another battle.

––

Enid secured the armory from the inside, blood clinging to her clothes, her face and her hair. New bruises were surfacing along her jaw and around her eye. Claw marks tore across her chest where her shirt had been ripped, blood seeped from the wound on her side where the bullet had grazed her, and she was breathing heavily, but the armory had been secured.

She was on the floor, tightening a shirt around her mid section to control the bleeding, and she winced, clenching her jaw as she pulled it tighter. She felt dizzy from the pain and the lack of food, water and sleep she'd gotten the past few days. She wasn't sure she was going to make it, to be honest. The adrenaline had faded, and she was exhausted. She could hardly keep her eyes open.

"Enid." Maggie hurried to her side, hand moving to her wound instantly, and Enid looked up at her. "Hey, I'm right here, okay." She grasped Enid's free hand and held it to her chest. "Let me get you upstairs. I'll take it from here."

"No." She licked her lips. "No, I'm okay. I just need a moment."

"You don't have to fight and be brave all the time. Let me protect you." She tucked hair behind her ears.

"We need to get them out of here. I can fight."

"I know you can, but you need to rest. I'll bring Denise to you once this is over."

"I'd say it's over now." Reyes stood in the doorway, armed to the teeth, with six other people at her side. "It was a good try. I'll give you that. You killed quite a bit of ours, but it's over. There's no more confinment. There's no more kind words. You'll die here, like the dogs you are."

Maggie felt Enid grip her hand, and she looked at her.

"Not before you." Enid chucked a flash grenade at them and covered Maggie's head and her own as it went off, smoke filled the room, anguished cries along with it, and a string of blind shots came forth. Maggie instantly raised her head and took them out before either of them could get hurt. It was far too late for a surprise attack, so Maggie took an automatic from the wall behind her and fired it once the blind shooter was taken out.

The house was rittled with bullet holes, blood, and bodies, smoke oozing out the doorways and an open window. The sound of hurried feet and shouting came running the moment the first series of bullets echoed throughout the town, and soon the armory was filling with Pentaghast's people and the lady herself. The house was filled with just under a dozen bodies, blood dripping down from the walls. It was a gory scene here.

"It's Reyes." Fin dropped down to her side, his chest aching. "Damn."

"Sonya!" Maya went to her sister's side. "No, no, no."

Pentaghast watched her people study the dead underneath and rolled her eyes at the sorrow filling the room. They were missing the true tragedy here, so she'd just have to show them. The dead were dead, plain and simple. They had to get over that shit right now. They had a true problem on their hands.

She stepped forward and walked over the bodies, blood spilling out of the exit wounds as she did so, and her eyes fell upon the empty walls of the armory. She put her hands on her hips and exhaled softly, a dark smile crossing her lips. "Little birds come to chirp. How adorable." She turned to her men. "Kill them all."

They nodded at her orders and bolted from the house to execute them, Pentaghast walked over to a small pool of blood and dipped her fingertips in it. It had to belong to one of the birds, not her people. She brought her fingers up to the light, seeing how it brought a glow to the liquid, and she painted her lips with it. It wouldn't be the first blood of the enemy she wore today, that was for sure.

––

Daryl looked at Glenn and then to Aaron, who had heard the automatic fire, and they smiled to themselves, cheering on whichever of their family was raising hell on these bastards. They would be on the street to give them even more hell soon.

Across town, Rick and the others heard the same spray of an automatic. However, like the three in the clinic, they were in the house with Pentaghast's men. Rick exchanged a look with Michonne, who nodded and lifted her leg, tossing the base of crumbled up biscuits at Miller, who was on duty. She screamed as they flew into her eyes, Rick and those linked to him then moved as one so he could knock her to the floor and slammed his foot through her head with a sickeningly wet crush.

Michonne slipped her legs through her chains and dug through the woman's pockets for a key, which she didn't find. She cursed and told the others of the lack of key.

"We'll just have to make due." Rick looked at his family. "We'll get the key when we get the key, but for now we have to move. It won't be long until they come to kill us. We need to get downstairs to the others."

It was easier said than done due to the narrow halls and the linked chains, but they managed. They were able to get downstairs, finding Eugene strangling the redhead on duty down there. He was out of his chains and using them to kill this woman. It was impressive, especially for him, and he gave a smile to them.

"You found a key?" Abe eyed him.

"I made a key," he replied, holding up a makeshift bobbie pen key. They'd been given to him as a joke from some of the kids. Who's laughing now?

"You smart son of a bitch." Abe chuckled.

He got to work immediately on freeing them. Sasha searched the body of the woman and found a knife and not much else. Abe collected Miller's ax from Francine who had taken it on their way out of their cell. Denise looked over the people who were too weak to stand. Tara and Michonne broke down the chairs their guards were sitting on and passed out the legs to use them as clubs. Rick looked for Carl but didn't see him, so he decided to check outside to see how much time they had.

"They're comin'." Rick accepted the club from Michonne. "Those who can fight need to come with me."

"We'll stay with the others." Tara spoke for her and Denise. "We'll keep them safe."

Abe reached over and took the wooden chair leg out of her hand, Tara started to protest when he handed her the ax, and he winked at her. "Give 'em on hell of a show."

She smirked back. "Same to you."

"We need to move." Sasha gripped her weapon.

"Move where?" Gabriel asked. "Some of ours have some of our guns, they'll take the rest, and we can't win with chair legs."

"We'll go to the clinic," Rick answered. "That's where they took Daryl and Glenn and Aaron."

"And since Maggie got out," Eugene added, "she'll go to Glenn first. She'll have weapons. We don't need proof to know it was her in the armory."

"Maggie got out?" Rick's brows rose. "When? How?"

"When Roy tried to assault her," Eric swallowed. "I heard Miller talking. She killed him and got out. I don't know where she went, but she's probably the one who fired, like Eugene said."

"He didn't...did he?" Rick dared to ask.

"I don't think so," was the best Eric could give. "I...was asleep. I didn't wake up until I heard Miller shouting for Maggie. I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Rick set a hand on his shoulder. "We'll make 'em pay for it."

He nodded, absorbing some of Rick's confidence and strength. "We will."

"We'll split up." Abe stood by the doorway. "We're too easily taken down in this large group, so half will go to the clinic, and half will find Carol, Carl and Judith."

"From what I've overheard," Eugene remarked, "they're keeping the three of them in Pentaghast's house. I believe that house is Tobin's house. They mentioned what a pain it was to walk from here to there, so it's quite a distant, and the only houses that far are Tobin's, Olivia's and what used to be the Anderson's. She's not holed up in the armory, and they seem to be using the Anderson's house to sleep as it has the most beds. With that being said, it's easily deduced that they are in Tobin's house."

"I'll lead the team to go to Tobin's." Michonne adjusted her makeshift club in her hand. "Rick will lead the team to the clinic."

Rick wanted to protest. He wanted to find his kids and hold them so tight and kill this enemy, but he had to keep a level head. They had no time to argue. They were her kids as much as his these days, and he would hold them, just later. He could hold on for that. "I'll need you, Abe."

"And you got my ginger ass," he returned. "You in, Eugene?"

"I am completely in." Eugene nodded.

"I'll go with Michonne." Sasha stepped back towards her.

They divided up into two teams, Gabriel and Francine hung back to help Tara for when the group coming their way arrived, and they spread out. Francine and Tara readied their weapons by the door, Denise and Gabriel helped the weakened move to a more secure location inside the house, and Francine and Tara exchanged a look before the front door blew open.

Michonne's group were instantly met with part of the massive group of Pentaghast's men come to likely kill them all, and it was brutal. They had no real weapons to use on the group, but they made due. They had a lot of rage build up over the past few days, and they used it. They summoned their rage and their adrenaline to make up for the lack of food, water and rest. Pure reserved energy was what kept them going as they bashed in heads with the chair legs, fist fought and busted knuckles on faces, and Eric took a bullet to the arm. He didn't stop fighting, and Sasha knocked a rifle out of the hands of an asshole older man, taking his life with it before lending Eric an arm.

Sasha broke off from the group then with a shout to Michonne, who knew what she was going to do, and Michonne's group collected the weapons from their enemies and sprinted across the yard to give cover fire for Rick's group, still moving towards Tobin's house.

Eric couldn't feel the pain shooting through his arm as adrenaline coursed through him, Sasha guided him to the watchtower to help lend a hand to her family from above, and they took out a few stragglers trying to rejoin their group. Eric got his hands on a semi automatic, and they were in business. Sasha ensured he wasn't going to pass out from his injury, and they sped towards the tower. Luckily most of their adversaries were in the heat of battle or moving there from across town. They had a clean path for the most part.

Sasha had him climb up first to give him a boost should he need it, and they took their positions. Sasha propped her foot up and peered down at the town through her scope, and Eric watched their backs from assholes who would try and shoot them down.

Meanwhile Rick's group made it through with the aid of Michonne's group, they picked up guns and knives on their way, and they collided with Pentaghast and her men on the way to the clinic. The little girl wore dried blood on her lips and a fucking grenade belt. She didn't reach for her grenade but the machine gun strapped to her back, and Rick didn't wait for her to shoot first. He took out the older man beside her, which rattled her for only a moment, and Abe charged her to get that belt. Eugene and Rick began to take out her men from a slight distance while the others went for the throat.

Pentaghast screamed as Abe ripped the belt from her waist, she kicked his stomach and shot him in the chest. Abe tossed the belt to Eugene, who was able to catch it, staring in horror as blood soaked through his sweater. Rick told him to move, to keep pushing, and Eugene tried to take out Pentaghast, but by the time he snapped out of his daze and aimed, the girl had vanished. It was just her men now, and while he wanted to tend to Abe's wound, he fought on. Abe would need the meds in the clinic, so they had to get to the clinic. That was the goal.

Rick headbutted a woman who was about ten percent fat and the rest was all muscle, and he felt his nose twitch, blood running from a nostril. Not surprising her head was hard as a fucking rock, and he shook his head to try and shake out the haze the force of the headbutt had brought, but it only made him dizzy. She took that chance to kill him.

Or attempted to. Morgan appeared and brought his staff down so hard on her hand that they could hear the bones break, but she didn't have time to acknowledge that as Eugene shot right through her temple, blood splattering onto Morgan's face.

"We need to get to the clinic," Rick informed him.

"Is Denise there?"

"No, she's back with the others, keeping them safe with Francine and Tara." His eyes fell to Abe, who was still blasting shots at these fuckers to make a path for his family. "We need to get to the clinic for his sake and the others."

Morgan followed his gaze. "I'll get him. You take care of the rest."

They parted ways, Morgan pulled some gauze from the pack on his hip and applied pressure to the chest wound, and Abe told him to go, but he didn't listen. Instead, he dragged him over to a parked car for cover and checked for an exit wound.

He reached into the pack for more gauze when a bullet passed over his shoulder, he heard a body fall and saw he was about to killed by one of Pentaghast's men. He turned his head towards where the shot had come from, and it was from the tower. He was semi-grateful to that person, his beliefs conflicting with the knowledge that this had to happen.

"Stay with me." Morgan changed the gauze.

"I don't plan on goin' out like this," Abraham ensured him.

"Good." He chuckled. "'Cause it might be a while before we can get you help."

"Just gives me reason to watch your back." He lifted his arm and shot another approaching woman. "Fuckin' bitches, man. They won't get off my dick."

Morgan didn't know exactly what to say to that.

"I'm spoken for, and she'll shoot all your asses!" he shouted. "They got nothin' on her. Beach ball-sized lady nuts."

He honestly couldn't tell if he was saying this from blood loss, because he talked like this all the time. He'd just have to tend to the wound as best he could. They would get to Denise soon. If only they had more doctors. They had the kids, the weakened townspeople, and Abe on their hands, not to mention whoever else might be hurt. This was going to be rough. It was already hell, but it just kept getting worse.

––

Neva could hear gunfire outside and shouting, and she tried her best to make sense of it. It was a blood bath, bodies falling here and there, blood running down the streets. A few of Daryl's people were injured, a lot of Pentaghast's were dead. She couldn't believe it'd finally happened. She was nearly glued from the terror and joy of it.

A man was lying wounded in the streets, shot in the chest. She had to get to him. She knew what side he was on, and if he didn't get aid soon, he might not survive. She had to get out there. She had a kit prepped for this precise moment. She had to use it. She just let the others go. She knew Pentaghast would come here. She would try and kill them simply because she was losing. Her childish tantrums ended in massive losses and fires. That was the only way that girl knew how to handle things. She couldn't let that happen to them. It was time to fight back.

Besides if she wanted any chance of getting to her daughter and getting out of here, she had to help them. They could save her later on. It was selfish, but she didn't want to get caught up in their war. It was her war, too, wasn't it, though? She had chosen a side in it, and she couldn't claim to be innocent. She was just as guilty as Pentaghast, just as much as a killer as her too. She didn't help, not either side, and because of that people were slaughtered. They were made to be less than people. They were just play things to her, as she danced there, laughing, covered in their blood. It was an image that haunted her to this day. The day she encountered Pentaghast.

The girl had long hair down her back, blood dripping down the bridge of her nose, splattered onto her cheeks, and she was laughing as though someone had told the most hilarious joke. She danced among the bodies of the fallen and eventually made her way to Neva and Jo. Fin had found them hiding and dragged them to her, and Pentaghast bit her lip and hummed at them. She tapped her fingers together and giggled once. It was a soft sound, like the laughter of a small child. It would have been precious had her eyes not been so dark. That giggle spoke words Neva knew would come: She was going to kill them. Her eyes were dilated, her hand reaching for her bloody knife, and she was itching for more. More bloodshed, more bodies to dance through—simply more. Nothing would ever be enough to sate her need, her hunger.

But luckily Fin had stopped her. She yanked Neva up onto her feet by her arm, as gentle as he could be without showing a soft spot for a mother and child. He had arrived late to this fight, and they were all he could save. He told Pentaghast about her medical background, about the tools and medicine found in her office, and Pentaghast began to smile for a new reason, but it was still a twisted smile. Dark, disgusting, so white against the red painted on her lips. And it was then that she pushed back her poncho and revealed a small bump. She was about four months pregnant with Ellie, and she wanted to know how the baby was doing. That was all that had saved her that day. Her brain and her training. Now it was time to use her conscience. It was so heavy... No more.

She tore herself away from the window, taking the first aid kit from the counter, and she saw one of the guards still posted. He was shooting out the door, and she knew her plan would fail as long as he was there. She had to take him out. There was no other way. It wasn't as though he was a good guy. She snuck up on him and pulled a scalpel from her coat pocket. She was supposed to use it on Carol. Pentaghast had decided to keep the woman, so the deed of extracting her baby was left to her, to ensure the survival of the mother. Of course Pentaghast also wanted the baby. She wanted to see how it'd turn. Twisted little bitch.

She raised her arm to stab him in the back of the neck, having a clear path, his attention was elsewhere, but she faltered. Her hand began to tremble at the thought of her actions, and her breathing increased. She couldn't do it. She wanted to, but she couldn't. Oh, shit. She had to do this. She had to kill him. There was no other option here—

A bullet cut across her cheek, she fell sideways to the floor, the man she was about to kill falling dead out the door. She looked back to find Pentaghast standing there, panting heavily, raging, her eyes burning. Neva's heart stopped cold as she raised the gun.

"You finally grew a backbone." She stepped closer. "I'll be sure to show Jo what it looks like."

Neva grit her teeth and threw the scalpel directly into Pentaghast's hand, she dropped the gun as blood gushed down the front of her hand, but she didn't make any cries of pain. Neva grabbed the gun from the floor and held it an inch from her forehead, her hand still.

Pentaghast's lips curled to the right in a dark smirk.

"Go to hell." She pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened. It simply clicked. Unfortunately, Pentaghast had emptied the gun on her way here and had one last bullet. She intended to beat the life out of Nevaeh with her own two hands and feets.

Pentaghast shrugged. "You first." She struck Neva's nose with the heel of her head, sending her tripping backwards as blood spewed from her nostrils. Pentaghast grunted and brought her leg back, smacking her right in the gut with the tip of her heavy boots, and Neva folded like a box. She knew it wouldn't take much to knock the old girl down.

"You get to die like the worthless coward you are." She towered over her, and she cocked her head to the side. "I'll tell Jo one of their people did it, and she'll be none the wiser. The girl practically eats out of my hand, after all. She'll have your first grandchild, and you won't know them."

There was a distant clanging that stopped Pentaghast from repeatedly mashing her foot down onto Neva's face like she'd dreamed of every day this week. It was a familiar sound. Like a screen door swinging shut as someone slipped through it. It was to leave, not to enter. There was too much force behind it for entering. Who had left? And why leave now?

Her eyes fell on a chuckling Neva. "What's so funny?"

"They're gone," she spat. "I let them go."

Her eyes widened, and she ran to the exam room to find all three beds vacant. "No!" She slammed her already injured hand against the wall, leaving a print there and knocking the scalpel out of her flesh. "No!"

Neva rolled onto her side. "They'll kill you. All of you."

She growled. "You don't know what you've done!"

"But I do know what I've done, and it's been a long time coming." It wasn't too late for this bold move, but it could have come sooner.

"You'll ruin this earth for petty revenge? Over scum you didn't even know? They were all dark and twisted and unclean. They deserved to be purged. They deserved their deaths. It is what was meant to become of them." She looked in at the empty room. "I try and cleanse this world, but the world will not let such purity stand. My son, my daughter... All the possible children... This world wants to burn, but unlike you, I won't let it."

"That's where you're wrong. I don't want the world to burn—just you." She pushed herself up on to her knees. "I want to see you dead and rot!" She spit blood onto the floor in front of her feet, feeling it coat her teeth as she spoke, and she wiped her nose, refusing to let Pentaghast see her wince in pain.

"You mean nothing to me." She backed up. "I have to get to her."

Neva tried to stand, to stop Pentaghast, but she blew out of the clinic so fast. Neva didn't have the strength to go, so she leaned against the wall and pressed her sleeve into her nose, hissing at the white hot pain that seared through her nose. She could only hope Daryl made her death quick so nobody else had to suffer.

– – –

Josephine ran into Pen's room. "Carol!"

Carol was at attention long before now, ready for someone to burst in through that door to save her or kill her, and she had no weapon. She'd broken the fork trying to undo the lock. She wasn't sure she counted this as luck or not, but at least the kid was afraid of her. She could use that. "They're coming for you."

She was panting. "The kids are safe. We have to get you out."

"What?" Carol stared at the girl.

"We have to get you out." She began to search through the drawers in the room, trying to locate the keys. Pentaghast threw things about, so they were lost more than hidden. "I couldn't find the key in Fin's room, so it must be in here."

"Why are you trying to get me out?"

"Because she'll kill you if I don't. I won't let her hurt you, or your baby." She met her eyes. "Do you really think I was so oblivious? So stupid and naive?"

"I wasn't thinking about you at all. I was trying to get out of here."

She nodded. "I just have to find the key. It should be in here somewhere."

"But you don't know where." She crossed her arms. "Why should I believe you? How do I know it's not a trick? You'll "win me over", she'll carve out my baby, and I wake up in the clinic the next day, or not at all."

"Why do you think we're here right now?" Josephine moved to the next drawer. "Huh?"

"Pentaghast wants it all—power, security, bloodshed, war, peace, etc."

"Because I let people go. Pentaghast kills one of our own, not trusting them, and we move on. That's what happened last time. That's why...you got caught at the hospital. We were going to take it. She marked it. It was going to be our home. We were going to built walls, a lush garden... We were going to stay put finally, but...you all showed up. She...was curious, and she went with it, as always. It's my fault we're in this situation. It's my fault your baby and family are in this situation. And I'm going to make it right."

"Why?"

"Because you're human, just like me. You deserve happiness and a better life than this. A chance for a better life, and I have to try my best to give that to you, like I give that to Ellie. I am raising her to be her own person, not like her mother, not crazed, not selfish. I know most of Pentaghast's problems are...from her past, and Ellie won't have them, but...nature runs deep. I have to nurture that out of her."

"You're foolish."

"Aren't we all fools in life? I mean, even before the world went to shit. And I'd rather be foolish than to not try." She stood up. "Trying is the best thing you do in this world, and sometimes...you get lucky." She held up the key and smiled at Carol.

"I don't trust you."

"I don't need you to trust me. I just need you to let me get you out of here. It's pure hell down in the streets, so we'll have to take the back way out of town. We'll get the kids, and we'll get out of here."

"I won't leave my family."

"You can't fight." She stopped in front of the cage. "You're pregnant, do you realize that? You cannot fight. You have to run."

"I didn't say I'd fight—"

"She will kill you. Her plans have been ruined. She'll turn into a tyrant. She'll burn this place to the ground. She'll take everyone out. She...is incredibly strong and persistent. She won't go down easy. I can't let her hurt you, Carol. If you weren't pregnant, maybe, but you are. I have to get you out of here."

"Oh, you have to get her out, don't you?" Pentaghast stood in the doorway, her hand over her stomach, blood drying there on her knuckles and on the wound inches from them. "How the tables turn."

She spun around, her breathing increasing at the sight of Satan's mistress before her. "Yeah, I guess they do."

"You were mine." She stumbled forward as though it hurt to move. "You were like my sister. My flesh and blood sister. I treated you right. I protected you."

"I protected myself!"

"Oh, sweet baby, no—that was all me. I kept you safe. I gave you food and clothes and access to unadulterated purity. I—I chose you. That was me! My actions! My heart!"

"And I chose to be honest to myself. You tried to have my mother killed! Did you think I could forget that? Forgive that?" She shook her head. "Never."

"You're ungrateful."

"And you're insane. It's time I finally say it. You are fucking crazy! There is no purity in Ellie. She is just a child. A sweet baby girl who needs a stable home and parent! You provide nothing but violence! You do nothing but fill the streets with blood and dance there as though it were rain! A child needs more than that, certainly more than you can ever hope to offer."

"I provide security!"

"No, that's what Fin does."

"Well, Finny boy is being chewed on by walkers, so who gives a good god damn?" She sat on the edge of the bed and leaned back on her palms, rolling her neck, stretching out the kinks there. Her gaze locked on the ceiling. "Miller's gone too. Reyes. Flissa. That little hazel hair kid who made leek soup that I loved."

"Good. You'll be joining them soon. You'll all burn in hell together." She moved her hand behind her back, underneath her cardigan, and Carol saw the shadow of a gun there.

Pentaghast rolled her head to the side. "Will I?" Her green eyes were practically pulsating. "I'll burn in hell?"

"Yes."

She blew out a sigh. "You wouldn't kill a pregnant woman, would you?"

Carl! Carol gasped softly and gripped the bars to her cell, her heart dropping. Her blood ran cold, and it was like all the sound was sucked out of the room. Oh, God. No, please no.

"I'd kill you." She didn't even pause. "I'd kill you no matter how you are, because it's a lie. You're a lie. You can't play games with me. I've been beside you for years. I know your lies by heart. You hold no power over me. You won't make me waver. This has been a long time coming."

"Mmm. You're a lot more bitter than I thought." She chuckled, bringing her wounded hand up to her chin. "I love it. Hmmm."

"I'll give you something to love." She whipped the gun out from the band of her jeans, Pentaghast just...vanished, and the next thing she knew, Pentaghast had her arms wrapped around Josephine's body. She had her arm around her neck, the other twisting the gun behind her back, and they were both struggling.

"My dear, sweet Jo." She whispered into her ear. "I knew there was a darkness in you. How unfortunate it had to show itself."

"It'll be real unfortunate when it kills you." She tried to break free, but Pentaghast was stronger. "Aah!"

"Carol!" That was from Daryl. "Carol!"

"Oh, look, it's lover boy." She tightened her grip on Jo's neck, and she whimpered. "Let's give him a show, shall we?"

Daryl suddenly appeared in the doorway. Carol gripped the bars at the sight of him. He was...pale, so freaking pale. His hair cropped down to the same length it was back on the farm, his clothes thrown onto him. They were loose. He'd lost weight. He barely weighed anything to begin with, and now he was like a walking muscle. God, he looked so sickly. His face sunken in, his eyes rimmed with black and bags hanging down. Her heart ached at the sight of him.

His eyes fell on Pentaghast and Josephine, and he wanted to look at Carol. He wanted to push by them and take her in his arms, but he couldn't. He made a promise. He'd keep it. He had to get Josephine away from Pentaghast. He had to kill that bitch. He wanted to kill that bitch. After all this, after what she'd done...she wouldn't make it out of this room, let alone this house, alive. As a human or as a walker.

"Everybody just grew a sack today." Pentaghast yanked hard on Josephine's arm, Josephine could feel the socket in her shoulder being separated, and she felt queasy. "I like it. Don't get me wrong. I just wish I'd gotten the memo."

"You realize this is it, right?" Daryl entered the room slowly. "You're gonna die."

"Hmm. Let's see if the undernourished fuck can kill me or even make me worry about killing me."

Josephine tossed the gun so it couldn't be used against Daryl, and also so Pentaghast would stop pulling on her arm. It clattered to the floor, and Pentaghast smiled against Josephine's ear. She stopped pulling on her arm, but she didn't release it. She was instead working on the belt around her waist. There was a pocket she needed to get into, and this was the perfect angle for that. He couldn't see her hand, and sweet little Jo Jo couldn't feel what she was pulling out.

"Yeah, he can." Daryl pulled a gun from his waistband. "I'm not leavin' here with you alive."

"Here being this world, or this room?" She smiled widely, sweetly, yanking Josephine to block any chance of him getting a shot in.

"Do it," Josephine strained. "Kill her, even if it kills me, do it."

"Oh, my lamb, don't be so self-sacrificing. It's not a good color on you." She stroked her cheek from behind. "But it's good to know you don't care if you live or die. Makes the guilt easier."

"You don't feel guilt."

"That's true, but I do feel." She looked at Daryl. "Would you like to know what I feel? What I've felt?"

"No, not at all." He moved forward.

"I've been in love. I met a young man in a small group, and I fell for him. He was the purest soul I'd ever met in this world, eyes full of wonder and hope. He was truly a gift for this world." Her voice had softened, her eyes lightening, and the young girl Daryl and Carol had both seen was with them now. "He showed me things I didn't know could exist in such darkness. I believe he could have saved me from it, from the things I did. He was...the opposite of me in every way, and that brought in such light."

Josephine felt something wet run by her ear, and she was stunned to learn Pentaghast was crying.

"But he was weak where I was strong. Months passed, and that beautiful light, that stunning hope, began to fade. The world was not going to restore itself. There was no cure. There was no...reason to hope. It all began to dawn on him, and he couldn't take that realization. Reality is a hard pill to swallow."

Daryl wasn't sure why she was telling them this, but he was sure she was trying to distract them from something. He didn't know what, but he had a feeling he wouldn't like it, so he kept his eye open for a chance to end this. Story or no, he was ready to kill. A human underneath all of that twisted darkness or no, she would not leave this room.

"He killed himself. Sliced his wrists open with a box cutter blade and bleed out in the woods. I'd just...found out I was pregnant, so I went to tell him, to give him hope. I thought...this would be the missing piece he needed to keep himself whole." She scoffed. "When I found him...he was devouring my best friend, who had been taking nap away from the noise of our people. I killed him and then I killed her... And then I took Flissa and razed that little shit hole to the ground. They were weak, and they did not deserve to live, so I liberated them from their burdens.

"See, I am a necessary evil in this world. If it's not me standing here, wearing this villainous cape, then it'll be someone else. I am not as evil as those who lurk in the outskirts of this town." She set her jaw. "I am not the bad guy here. I am just...what the world made me, and it made me into a warrior. A leader. I root out the weak and uplift the strong. I have brought hope to those who needed it, and death to those who longed for it. I am mercy. I am a demon. I'll admit that, but I am necessary. There must always be a darkness to the light, a yin to a yang, and you know it."

"Kill her," Josephine struggled. "Just kill her."

"If you let me continue my will and remove your son," Pentaghast told him, "Carol will live. If you let me die, so will she."

"No."

"You play God now, so be it. You'll come to regret it." Daryl jerked forward when she pulled the aforementioned box cutter blade out from behind Josephine's head. "I found this in his arm after all was said and dead. It still has his dried blood on it, and now hers." With that, she slit Josephine's throat open wide with sharp blade.

"No!" He jolted and immediately went to shoot, but a different gun went off, and Pentaghast fell with Josephine.

Carol stood there with the other gun, the gun Josephine had thrown directly in front of the cell for her. Her hand was shaking both now and then, but her aim was absolute. She wouldn't have missed that shot for anything, and now... Now it was over. It was...truly over.

Daryl walked over the bodies and gently took the gun from Carol's hands, setting it and his gun aside. Carol limply pointed to the key being covered in blood between Josephine's and Pentaghast's feet, and he grabbed it up, freeing her.

The key hit the floor once more as she stumbled out of the cell, he took her in his arms and held her face, blood smearing onto her cheek, but he didn't care right now. He drank in her face, the weight she'd lost there, and tears filled those lachrymose eyes. He pulled her in close, kissing her forehead, and he held her as tightly as he could. He buried his face in her fluffy hairs, and he wanted to weep. It wasn't from joy either.

He was happy. He was fucking elated and blessed, but he wasn't happy. He had made a promise that he hadn't been able to keep, and it broke his heart. Another little girl gone, and there was nothing he could do. He couldn't take the shot without killing both, and he wouldn't take it as Pentaghast had moved in front of Carol, so if he missed, it might have hit her. She knew him well, knew what his heart wanted to protect most, and in the end, it cost Josephine, and it cost Carol, too. Goddamn it.

"Are you okay?" He held her at arm's length. "Is the baby okay?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. I... I haven't felt the baby move in days." She couldn't stop crying. "I don't know."

He slid a hand down from her shoulder to her belly, her hand instantly covered his, and he thought of the length to get them from here to Hilltop. They were still fighting in the streets. He could hear it. The firing of guns, the screams of battle filled the air, and while it had reduced, he could still hear it. He wouldn't take her out there now. He couldn't chance it.

"I'm here," he murmured. "It's okay."

"Daryl..." She closed her eyes.

"I love you." He weaved his fingers through the small gaps hers provided on her stomach, and he bumped his forehead against hers. It was only then that they felt a kick. It was small, but it came again, and it was stronger. His lips trembled, and tears rose up in his eyes now, too, and Carol broke. He smiled at the baby, at it telling them it was there. Their baby was there and alive. Oh, thank God.

"Daryl!" Rick came running into the room, covered in blood splatter, sweat and panting. He was glad to see they were unharmed, and he was even more glad to see Pentaghast dead, but he frowned at the girl with the slit throat lying next to her.

"No, no, no, no."

Daryl looked over as Neva crashed into the room, wearing blood that didn't belong to her, and she crawled over to her daughter. She lifted her up off the floor, blood oozing from the cut on her neck, and Neva tried to stop the flow, but Jo was already gone. She brought her daughter close, pulling her away from Pentaghast, off the floor and into her lap. She sobbed from the depth of her very soul, rocking her baby in her arms, as she'd done so many times before, but Jo wasn't smiling at her. She wasn't cooing. She wasn't complaining that she was too big for this. She was gone. The biggest light in Neva's entire world was gone.

She released an agonized cry, Carol flinched in Daryl's arms, and Rick gestured to them. It told them to leave her be, and that the war was over. It was safe. Daryl helped Carol over to the doorway, Rick took her in his arms at Daryl's wordless request, and he went back to Nevaeh. He picked up the guns he'd discarded, leaving one on the bed for her to use. It felt cruel to tell her to kill her daughter once more, but it had to be done. Whether or not she used that gun twice...was yet to be seen.

Daryl took Carol from Rick out the hall, Carol told them where to find Judith and Carl, and Rick bolted through the house to find his kids. Daryl guided her downstairs and to the couch, sitting her down. He just wanted to take her home, but he wanted to wait until it clear. He'd check it out first then come back for her. He kissed her forehead once more and slipped outside to see what was going on.

Upstairs Rick found Judith in her crib that had been moved from his house, and he found another toddler with her. They were both awake, looking at him with big eyes, and he lifted Judith up. He held her so tight that she fussed, and he kissed the top of her head. His eyes burned at the sight of his healthy girl, and he walked away, hearing the other child began to fuss. He looked back at her, seeing her holding the bar on the crib, and he didn't know what to do exactly.

"Rick." Michonne hurried over to him. "Judith!" She smoothed down the girl's hair and smiled at her. "Where's Carl?"

"Down the hall." He handed Judith over to her, and he followed the directions Carol had given him. He found his son bound, his hair cut down to the length it was at the prison, stripped of all his clothing and covered only by a sheet. He was unconscious, a glass bottle with a syringe beside his bed, and Rick was at his side in a heartbeat. He freed her wrists. "Carl?"

"Carl." Michonne clutched his hand.

"Son?" Rick touched his cheek, Carl moaned softly and began to rouse, and Rick laughed softly at the sleepy look he'd given him. He lifted his upper body off the bed and embraced him, holding the back of his head. "Hey, sleepy head."

"Dad?" He was so groggy. "What's going on?"

"What do you remember?" Michonne rubbed the back of his hand with her finger.

"Just...someone being on fire. People were lined up in the street. Some woman...came in here...and talked to me. I don't...really remember what she said, but she just kept talking. And whenever I'd wake, she'd drug me before I could fully regain consciousness."

Rick let him go. "That's all?"

"I think." He reached up to rub his eye and found no hair there. "What...?" He panicked. "My hair!"

"She cut it," Rick told him.

"She couldn't have." He reached up with his hand and found it had really gone. "No..."

"It'll grow back," Michonne assured him.

"That's not the point!" His heart sank. "Mom... Mom was the last one to cut my hair... Mom was..."

"Carl." Rick touched his cheek and pulled him back in for another hug.

Michonne set Judith on the bed beside them, Judith went to her brother instantly, and Michonne squeezed his hand tightly. It was the little things, but they could mean the entire world. A brother's vest, a boyfriend's jacket, a sister's blade—even a mother's final haircut—little jewels that...were priceless and once lost...left such a hole.

––

Maggie finished patrol with Sasha, and as they were coming around the corner, her eyes fell on a face she'd longed to see. She took off at top speed for him, Sasha simply chuckled, and Glenn barely got her name out before she knocked him into the snow and the cold, hugging him with her arms and wrapping her legs around him like a monkey.

He chuckled. "It's good to see you too."

She kissed his neck as it was the only thing she could reach at this angle. He chuckled again and bent his head down, her lips brushed against his nose, and she tilted her head back and kissed him again. This time on the lips, and she smiled widely against his mouth, enjoying the familiar warmth and taste of him. It was the best feeling, the feeling of home in the arms of the man she loved, and she was so grateful to have this chance. She couldn't imagine waking up and him not being there. She didn't want to imagine it.

She opened her eyes slowly, drinking in his handsome face and finding it boner than she remembered. He had lost weight, and they had cut his hair. He looked like the same Glenn, smelled like the same Glenn, and it was the same Glenn. They had tried to take so much from him, but they weren't able to. God, she hoped they weren't able to. Please—

"I'm okay," he told her, breaking her train of panic. "I needed a haircut."

She weaved her fingers through his short raven locks and kissed the top of his nose. "You're okay?"

"I am." He inhaled. "I found Morgan and helped him with the kids. He told me how he found you. Are you all right?"

"I am. I'm okay." She searched his eyes and smiled at him. "I love you."

"I love you, too." He pulled her back in and kissed her.

Sasha was tempted to clear her throat at them, but she would leave them in their little love bubble. She had her own man to worry about, and they could catch a cold together being all cute on the cold, snow-covered ground. She had plans to visit him when the clinic was empty. Right now, it was filled with sickly children and wounded adults. She didn't want to get in Enid's and Denise's way. She would wait until it could be just the two of them. She liked privacy in her relationships anyway, and he would learn to like it too.

"Come on, you two." Aaron teased. "There's cute and then there is ridiculous. You've passed the border."

"The border is a line to you." Eric stood right against Aaron, their fingers laced together, having been by each others sides since they found each other.

"Look who's talking." Glenn helped Maggie up off the ground, and she shuddered as the cold seeped into her jacket.

"At least we don't make a show of it." Aaron grinned.

"Straight people," Eric mused, rolling his eyes. "So over dramatic with each other."

Maggie giggled and walked over to hug them, glad to see they were all right, and Glenn hugged Sasha. They had passed each other, but they had different duties they were vital to securing their home, but now they could say hey. They could say hey and work as a group to finish their duties. It felt good to be there, to be here, with these people. To be with family. They would ensure every day was like this. They wouldn't let another Pentaghast roll through here.

– – –

It was nightfall before all the bodies were cleared out of town. Everyone in the entire town showered and cleaned off the grime and blood and bodily fluids that had no choice but to release. Denise and Enid tended to the wounded, and no one could stop Enid. She had some painkillers in her system, and she was ready to go. (Tara was waiting for moment to tackle her down.) Sasha and Maggie checked the perimeter for anymore of Pentaghast's men, and Francine and Tara helped Denise and Enid with their patients. There were mostly children who needed fluids and food, and Abraham who had luckily been patched up on the field. They just needed to give him some pain meds and keep an eye on his bandages.

Olivia had found animal skins and meat in the fridge in the pantry when she was going to find something for the kids to eat, and Spencer served it up. He was the first to eat it, so he could have the strength to pass it around to the weakened members of the town. He even made a stew for the kids who couldn't yet stomach solids. He had Olivia's help, and Rosita even offered a hand. He wasn't sure, but there was no saying no to her.

Rick readied a car for Hilltop since Carol wanted to be sure the baby was really okay, and that was when the sole adult survivor of Pentaghast's group showed her face. Rick and Michonne instantly drew their weapons, but Morgan and Daryl both stepped in their way. Daryl and Morgan exchanged a look at the other's actions, not knowing how the other knew to protect her, but oh well. Another body to shield her.

"She let us go," Daryl explained. "Me, Aaron, Glenn—she let us go the moment y'all started fightin'. She saved us."

"And she saved Abraham," Morgan added. "He would've bled out or been wounded worse were it not for her. She helped me take him to safety."

Rick lowered his gun. "Okay. Who are you?"

"I'm...Nevaeh," she stated, her voice empty. "I'm a doctor."

"And you just changed sides?" Michonne was disbelieving.

"You see this?" She thrust a finger to her throat. "This is when Pentaghast tried to kill me. And this?" A motion to her bloody clothes. "This is my daughter's blood. She's dead, because of that spawn. I was never loyal to her. I was just dragged along, because my daughter was her pet project. My daughter was only in it for Ellie."

"The baby with Judith." Rick had almost forgotten.

"Yeah. She's...my er, granddaughter." She cleared her throat. "Where is she?"

"In the clinic. We're having all the kids looked over." Michonne sheathed her katana. "She's being fed, too."

She nodded. "If you want me to leave this place, I will. I'll take her and go. I won't come back. There's nothing for me here." Tears slid down her cheeks. "But...before you either let me go or kill me, I want to help. I overheard your trip to...a hilltop? It sounds like a long trip, and I know it's for the baby."

Rick was uncomfortable and tense. "Yeah?"

"I can check on it here. I fixed the broken equipment you took from the hospital. And I'm a doctor. And I owe...her."

"Her?" Michonne narrowed her eyes.

"Carol. She killed that monster, and I want to thank her in some small way. I can't get my daughter back, but I can check on her kid. I want to. Maybe...I'll get something out of it. Maybe it'll just make me even more miserable." She shrugged. "But if I can spare you a trip, spare gas and stress on the expectant mother, please, please let me."

Rick inhaled and nodded. "Any funny business, and it's over."

"I don't have any plans or plots under my sleeve." She shrugged weakly. "I just don't. I just want to make amends for not acting sooner."

"Why did you act at all?"

"Because it was the first time I'd seen a chance for her to lose. Josephine saw it too, but I'm just slow. I'm a coward. It cost me my daughter, and I won't forget that. I won't make that mistake twice."

"You won't have to." Daryl lowered his head. "And it wasn't you. I should've taken the shot when I was in the hall. I should've—"

"I should have known you were strong enough to stop her," Neva interrupted him. "I shouldn't have been so afraid. It's not on you, Daryl. I asked you to keep her safe, and I shouldn't have. It wasn't your job. It was mine."

"It was her job, too." Carol had been in the car, listening to the conversation and decided to speak. "Josephine's. She knew it might come to her death, and she wanted you and Ellie to be free, even if she couldn't be. She wanted to do the right thing, and...you should be proud. She was strong. She was kind. She's the reason my child...is alive."

Neva whimpered. "She was everything I wasn't..."

Carol swallowed. "She was everything you raised her to be. You wanted her to be compassionate and strong, and she was. She wore the same clothes as the wolves, fooled them well, and she...saved who meant most to her. Be proud. It wasn't your fault. It was Pentaghast's. She wanted to take as many people down as she could."

Neva nodded. "Thank you."

Carol smiled softly, remembering the tender heart laughing beside her at a table filled with family and spirits and food.

––

Within the next twenty minutes they were led to the house beside the clinic. Neva had pulled herself together and cleaned herself up, leaving Carol and Daryl to prepare themselves for what was about to happen. Maggie and Glenn, Rick and Michonne, Carl and Judith, and even Aaron and Eric were crowded around to see the little one. They were waiting outside, of course, just in case things weren't looking good, but they were all sending good vibes and praying it would work out.

"Are you ready?" Nevaeh inquired at the couple.

"As ready as we can be," Daryl replied.

She had everything ready, so she just began, and soon the room was alive with the heartbeat of their baby. Carol couldn't stop her tears, and Daryl exhaled a breath his soul had been holding. He kissed the top of her belly that didn't have gel on it, and he tried to kiss her forehead again, but she tilted her head so he got her lips. He wasn't sure he deserved a kiss, not after what he'd held back, but that was for later. After rest and more food and hydration.

The others came pooling in when Daryl called to them, they all gazed upon the not so little baby on the screen, and Neva confirmed she was six months along. She showed them the basics, and she discovered something else. Something she knew they didn't know yet.

"Would you like to know the sex of the baby?" Nevaeh looked at the couple.

Carol moistened her lips. "Yeah."

Daryl nodded.

"See this?" She gestured with her pinkie, and they gave a nod. "This...means it's a boy. You have a healthy six month old baby boy. Congratulations." Her throat contracted, remembering the day she discovered Jo would be Josephine and not Joseph.

And Carol's throat tightened for a different reason entirely, and around her the room erupted in "I knew its" and "Congrats". She felt numb from the news, and it felt...surreal. She didn't have a reaction for them, but luckily nobody was looking at her for one. Daryl was being teasing by Rick and Glenn, and Maggie and Michonne were exchanging a look on plans made long before now. It was a happy moment, clearly, but Pentaghast and her words had soured it for Carol. She could find joy in the news later, perhaps after talking to Daryl.

Her eyes moved to him as Glenn and Rick were flustering him, and he rolled his eyes, looking over at her, and he smiled a little at her. He knew they had a lot to talk about when it was just the two of them, but for right now they were the parents of a healthy boy. He was thrilled. If only he could get Rick and Glenn to get off his back. He never wanted more brothers...but then again, he received a lot he didn't ask for, and he loved it. It came with a lot of pain, but it was worth it.


	38. Better Days To Come

They sat in the living room of Rick's house, Judith and Enid were playing with blocks on the floor, the child called Ellie was with them, and Rick couldn't help but smile inside at how precious she and Judith were together. It was the first time either of them had been around another toddler, and it made his heart melt. He couldn't let that show right now, as he had official business to attend to, thanks to a late conversation with Daryl and Morgan and Michonne. He would join the girls in a bit.

Michonne entered the room, strolling over to Rick with a nod, and Rick approached Neva, who was nervously sitting on the couch.

"I'd like to you ask you some things," he spoke.

"Okay." She rested her hands in her lap. "What kind of things?"

"How many walkers have you killed?"

She pursed her lips. "How many walkers...? Uhh...I dunno. It's not a lot. Fin kept me out of the fighting, because I was their only doctor, so I didn't...uh, get around to killing walk—walkers." She cleared her throat.

"How many people have you killed?"

"People?" She exhaled and closed her eyes. Hundreds likely, but that was her guilt speaking. At her own hand, well, that was a smaller number yet still too big for her heart. "Four." There was no hesitation.

"Why?" That came from Michonne, who had moved closer to Rick.

"Um, well...the first three were extremely sick. They had eaten some mushrooms that...weren't meant to be eaten, and I couldn't risk my daughter. I killed them. I'm not sure it counts, because they weren't breathing, not...not really." She exhaled again. "And there was one out of mercy."

"Mercy?" Rick cocked his head to the side.

"One young man... One boy was chosen by Pentaghast about two or three months after Ellie was born. He was about...thirteen. He was so young and so...scared. There was no way I could get him out. He was under watch, constantly being...poked and prodded by Pentaghast, being tortured, and I couldn't bear it anymore. I...overdosed him. It was the only way I could save him." She lowered her eyes. If that even counted as saving him...

Rick looked over at Morgan, who gave a nod, and Rick set his hands on the butt of his gun that rested in its holster at his hip. "All right then... How would you like to join us?"

"Join you?" Her brows shot up. "You mean...live here? With all of you?"

"We could always use another doctor," Michonne remarked. "And we can't ask you to leave with a child as young as Ellie. She needs food and a safe place to grow. We know what it's like to be on the road with an infant. You won't survive."

"So, you're offering this to me for her?"

"And for savin' Abe and lettin' the others go," Rick added.

She looked at Ellie who was playing with the young girls named Enid and Judith. "What if she stays and I go?"

"You'd leave your granddaughter?" Michonne eyed her. "Just like that?"

"No, but I don't know how I can live out my life in the town where my daughter was killed." She swallowed. "I'm grateful, don't get me wrong. I just...don't know if I can handle it. For Ellie, yes. A million times yes, she needs a home and food and safety. But...give me time on what I can handle, please."

"You have the day," Rick told her. "Michonne and I will be running patrols of the town, and Maggie and Glenn are at home. They'll be in the office till dark. Morgan will be on the wall. Come to any of us."

"Thank you." She rose. "I'll get some air and think on it."

Rick cut a look to Michonne once Neva was gone, and Michonne returned it with an unspoken answer. They would have Francine follow her just in case. They trusted her to do right by the child, but they didn't trust that Pentaghast didn't have some insane backup plan. Grief did twisted things to people, and this woman already admitted to killing a child out of mercy. She might try and do that here. Grief an false hope did...unspeakable things to people sometimes, so it was better safe than sorry.

– – –

"Look who I found." Enid came into the office with the puppy in her arms, Maggie smiled widely at the sight of the puppy, and Glenn was a little curious. "Morgan swiped her when she wandered out of the gates. Pentaghast's men had left it open when they invaded, and he found her."

"Aww, how lucky." Maggie rose out of her chair and scooped the puppy up, kissing her head.

"That sounds like a good name." Glenn pointed out, swiveling his chair towards them. "And fitting."

"It really is, actually." Enid stroked her back.

"Lucky Rhee," Maggie teased. "Yeah, fitting."

"She doesn't have to have my last name." Glenn stood up. "She can be a Greene."

"Lucky Greene sounds like a cigarette brand." Maggie handed the puppy over to her husband. "Rhee is fine."

Glenn accepted her and got his face attacked by her tongue. "Ahh, stop."

Maggie chuckled and wrapped an arm around Enid's shoulders. "She loves you, Dad."

"I did not ask for this." He held her away only to have her whine and look at him with big eyes. "You are so not fair." He pulled her back.

"I think she's pretty fair." Maggie put her hand on her hip and smiled.

"And since she's so taken with you, I'll change Maggie's bandages." Enid picked up the first aid kit. "And you oughta be around if Nevaeh comes by."

"Yeah, Nevaeh." He set Lucky down on the couch and wiped his chin off with his sleeve. "I'm not sure how to feel about it."

"You were with her most." Maggie crossed her arms loosely. "Daryl approves. Aaron is okay with it, but he's mostly been at home with Eric. Abe is still drugged up to keep him from screaming in pain, so he doesn't really have a response."

"She was all right. She was kind to us, but...kind only goes so far. After all that happened to you and to Enid, I just don't trust anybody in that group. I know I should give her a chance. She did help us, but knowing she let this happen in other places doesn't sit well with me. I'm all for keeping Ellie. She's just a baby. She can be brought up to be better than her blood, but I don't know what to think of Neva. I can't help but...feel if she'd acted sooner, you two wouldn't have been hurt."

"We were all hurt," Enid said. "We were starved and sleep deprived and treated worse than prisoners. I get that you don't trust Neva yet, but...I didn't trust any of you when you first came here. I've learned since then, and I know locking everyone away and keeping this place just ours sounds awesome. We'd be so safe, but...we'd be so alone, too. We'd cut off opportunities to grow. We won't improve as people or as a community without trusting others, like the Hilltop and Jesus. We'll meet bad seeds, people who only want to use us or kill us, but we're prepared. We're strong and smart. We've got this. We can handle it."

Glenn smiled softly at her then walked over and hugged her. "All right, fine."

"You taught me to not give up on people and on this place," Enid whispered against his chest, "so you can't give up either."

"Trust doesn't come easy, but...I'll try." He smoothed her hair down and stepped back, grasping his wife's hand and squeezing tightly. "I'll finish up the expansion plan and keep an eye out for Nevaeh."

"We'll be back shortly." Maggie kissed him and cupped his cheek before following Enid upstairs. She doubted Neva wanted to be greeted by the young doctor cleaning up a pretty nasty gash. It might make her turn tail in guilt.

Glenn put his hands on his hips, looking back at Lucky who waggled her tail at him, and he pursed his lips, rubbing the back of his neck. He believed in people. He believed in doing the right thing, because it was who they were, but honestly he'd been worn down. He and Maggie and Enid were toys to these people, and they were almost abused in a way that would leave such a scar. Enid was too young for that, and he couldn't bear for her to have endured that. He would have...slaughtered that asshole had Flissa not. He couldn't let him live, and the mere rage that brimmed up inside of him at that thought scared him. He'd never considered taking a life so easily.

He sat down on the couch, Lucky jumping into his lap, and he closed his eyes. Taking a life meant more than simply killing them. It would take part of him with it. No matter how foul that life was, he'd still take it. Him. He didn't want the action to change him, but he knew it would. Of course it would. He wasn't looking to be like Morgan by any means, but...it just wasn't him. The killer. That was Rick and Daryl and Maggie even. They could kill and still be themselves, but...and maybe he didn't have the stomach for it, but it just wasn't him. So to feel this rage still inside of him, this need for blood, this need to make somebody—anybody—who knew that fucker pay, unnerved him to his core. He wanted to be better than this, but he was human. He wasn't able to pick and choose his reactions, to pick and choose his recovery, even. He'd have to take it one day at a time. Maybe talk to Denise about it. Maybe Maggie, too.

He scratched behind Lucky's ear. One day at a time. That was all he could do. There was no promise for tomorrow, as the last few days had proven, so he'd take it in stride.

Upstairs Enid moistened a new cloth with warm water to wash away the small brownish bubbles of bacteria the peroxide had brought to the surface. She'd been practicing cleaning wounds on those injured, so she made quick work of it. She still suspected Maggie needed stitches, but she said it'd be fine. She would just disinfect it and wrap it up tightly so nothing got into make it worse. It was all she could do without begging Maggie to let Denise stitch the wound.

Maggie sat on the edge of the tub with her shirt rolled up and in only her panties with a towel over her thighs to keep her dry and to catch any blood or liquid that slipped free during the cleaning process. She gripped the tub as Enid dabbed on ointment. It stung slightly, but it was a fresh wound, and it was still trying to close itself. She didn't help anything when she tackled Glenn to the ground the day they were freed.

"Oof." Maggie exhaled.

"Sorry." Enid finished and wiped her fingers off, picking up gauze from beside her.

"Nah, it's all right. Cuts sting." She met Enid's eyes. "You're getting better at it, though. I saw you in the clinic that night. You busted ass. Considerin'."

Enid chuckled softly. "I've been shot before. It was nothing."

"You were reckless."

"Look who's talking." She applied the gauzed and reached for the medical tape. "It was just a graze anyhow."

"That doesn't mean it couldn't still hurt you later on."

She nodded. "I know. I just...had to help. I could do something other than kill for you all, and I wanted to. Denise needed the aid. Neva was distraught, and the kids needed Denise's attention, so I had to pick up her slack."

"You did well, but you need to let people help you, too."

"I know." She bit off two strips of tape and secured the gauze. "I'm trying."

"Have you tried talking to Carl yet?" Maggie inquired.

"No." She swallowed with difficulty and ripped off another sliver of tape. "He didn't want to see me, and I didn't want to see him."

"Why not? I thought you two..."

"Sorta." She finished with Maggie and stood up, heeding her own injury. "We both went through a lot. I don't want to rush him into seeing me. I'm not ready to see him. He tries to play my hero, and if he sees me like this... I just don't want to deal with his anger. I already have my own and yours and Glenn's."

"I'm not angry."

"Yeah, right."

"I'm not. He's dead and gone, and you're all right. I've moved on. I have this town to think of. And healin'."

"Glenn shouldn't be angry," Enid blurted. "It had nothing to do with him. It was me and that asshole. I fought him off till Flissa ripped him off of me. I just got smacked around. It'll heal."

"Glenn cares more about the people he loves than himself," Maggie informed her. "He...doesn't know how to channel this anger just yet, but he will, and so will you." She stood up. "It takes time, Enid. He loves you so much, as much as I do, and...we're a family. We protect each other, and we feel like we failed to protect you."

"I can do that myself."

"Yes, but we can help," Maggie shot back. "We weren't able to. He wasn't able to. He fought his battle, but he couldn't help you with yours. He'll make peace with being there after. After is just as important as in the moment, and he's learned from...past afters."

Enid sensed a story, but didn't press. "I'm not used to having someone...feel they're to blame for my injuries is all. My parents...haven't been with me for a long time, and nobody cared enough until you all. It's all...skin deep. Even with Olivia. Kind as she is...I was just a kid she put under her wing, nothing more."

"She loves you, Enid." She lifted the young girl's chin. "We all love you, and we'll get used to what that means. We've never had...someone like you in our lives, and we're grateful, because you...bring us so much happiness. You're a missin' piece we didn't know needed filled. Don't forget that."

"I won't." She smiled a little.

She nodded. "Okay then. Sit. It's your turn to be disinfected." She slashed warm water on her face, and Enid squealed at the sudden wetness thrown on her. Maggie laughed lightly.

"Real mature," she flicked water on Maggie, "Mags."

"You're laughin', aren't you?" She wiped her cheek off. "C'mon, I won't do it again. And we should get down there to meet Neva should she come."

Enid jumped onto the counter, Maggie scolded her, and Enid rolled her shirt up, trying not to also roll her eyes. They were changing the bandage anyway, but Maggie was right. It needed to heal, not be torn open every other second. She'd be more careful, especially as the young doctor of the group. She had a lot more to learn, but apparently they all did.

– – –

Daryl carried two empty bowls downstairs to the kitchen. He rinsed them out and softly sighed, dreading the conversation that was about to unfold. It'd been hours since Pentaghast and her men had been killed and taken out of Alexandria, since Spencer brought over a heaping pot of venison stew, since Carol had woken from her rest at the scent of that stew. He wanted to rest more, but it had been...a day? Two days? He'd lost track from sleeping and relaxing in bed with Carol. They'd had so much stew and no conversation really. It...was nice, but what was about to come wouldn't be nice.

He filled a glass with water and chugged it, putting it down on the counter with more force than he needed.

"Must have been a good drink."

He spun around to find Carol standing there. "I was about to come up..."

"I know. I just didn't want to talk up there. And I was worried you might run." It was meant to be a joke, but Daryl had considered running off to help Rick or Abe.

"I just...don't know what to say."

"You can tell me anything, Daryl. You know that, right?" She met his eyes. "Right?"

"Yeah, I know that, but for all I remembered nothin' happened!"

"But something could have. You could have told me, remembering what happened or not. It's something that obviously affected you, and that's what's important." She stepped towards him. "So why didn't you tell me?"

"I just told you why I didn't."

"That's not the whole story."

"What good would tellin' you have done?" he demanded. "You couldn't make it better if she had. You couldn't make the memories come back if she didn't. You weren't even there. There was nothing you coulda done or said then or now. It doesn't matter."

"Obviously it does, or you wouldn't be yelling at me."

"I ain't yellin'."

"Yes, you are. Even our son can tell you're yelling."

He scoffed and turned his back to her. He felt her boring holes into his back, but he couldn't get the words to come out. He didn't want the words to come out. He didn't want to remember it. It felt too much like his past. He didn't want to reopen old wounds. They weren't even fucking healed wounds. There was little to reopen, he'd only gash it more, and it might consume him whole. He couldn't... He simply couldn't do it.

"Okay." Carol walked into the kitchen and leaned against the counter. "The importance of telling me what might have happened is this." She inhaled, and he clenched his jaw. "Let's say we're in our bedroom, the ground is covered in snow, and we're staying in. One thing leads to another, and we're having sex, and all of sudden you remember things. Bits of it float in from your subconscious, and you have a panic attack. I wouldn't know what to do, because touching you might make it worse. It might invite more unwanted memories in. I couldn't soothe you, and...it'd break my heart, Daryl. Seeing you in that state...it'd kill me."

"Thanks for the guilt trip."

"It'd kill you too, because you wouldn't be able to talk about it," she added. "And it'd kill you if that little bitch was infected."

He turned his head slightly to look at her, frowning. They were all infected.

"A sexually transmitted disease, Daryl. If she was infected—which wouldn't be out of the realm of possibility given her history and her...choices—and she had...raped you in hopes of getting pregnant then you'd be infected. And if we had sex, unprotected sex, it would infect the baby, Daryl. It might...really hurt him, or worse. Not to mention what it'd do to me."

He couldn't swallow. He hadn't thought about that. It was ironic too. Merle had STDs what seemed like every other week, so he was used to all that shit, but he'd forgotten. Merle wasn't here. He had nothing to worry about, because he wasn't with anybody, and it slipped his mind. It slipped his mind, and it could have caused complications for Carol and his son. Could it have killed his son? Changed his son into... Fuck.

"It would have left us all hurting, and in the end, you'd be suffering the most, because you'd blame yourself. You didn't tell me. We weren't careful. It happened how it happened. That'd be it." She reached out and set her hand over his on the counter. "But it didn't. We didn't. She didn't. It's not over, but it didn't happen."

"If it didn't happen, how is it not over?"

"She drugged you, held you against your will and tried to assault you," she stated. "That kind of powerlessness, that kind of rage, does a lot of damage on its own. It's clear to see it's affecting you." She reached up and touched his cropped hairs. "She tried to break you, Daryl. You can't say that left you unscathed."

He studied the countertop hard.

She moved closer, her belly pressed against his arm now, and he felt his son shift underneath. "If you don't want to talk about her attempt then let me talk about mine." He looked at her the moment those words left her lips, and her grip tightened on his wrist. "Sophia was probably two weeks old. I was recovering from giving birth, and I was exhausted from taking care of her pretty much all by myself. I wasn't in the mood for any physical contact, just a shower and some sleep.

"That wasn't good enough for Ed. He went off on me, about how it was my job as his—not his wife, not someone he loved, just his. Just property." She didn't meet Daryl's eyes as she spoke. "I didn't want to fight, so I turned around to go upstairs, and he shoved me against the steps. It knocked the wind out of me, I couldn't believe he'd done it, and in my surprise, he undid his pants, ripped mine off and had his way with me right there on the steps. I couldn't move from his body being on mine and the steps being right there. I couldn't do anything but dig my nails into the shag rug and cry, hoping he'd...finish soon."

Daryl's stomach dropped, and he didn't like the hollowness in her eyes.

"When he did finish, he got a beer and went back to watching TV. I stayed there for...an hour? Half? I honestly couldn't tell you, but when I finally was able to move, I took a shower. I kept trying to reason it out in my head, kept trying to make sense of it—make it okay—but it wasn't okay. He had no right to do that to me. I was his wife, but I wasn't his property. I said no, but he took it anyway." There wasn't a single tear in her eyes. "And when I got ready to shower, I found I was covered in bruises—the first of many more—and there was blood in my panties..."

"Stop," Daryl pleaded softly, a whisper of the word. He couldn't take it—her voice, her eyes, the images in his mind. He couldn't take it.

"I couldn't get the blood stain off, so I threw them away. I wish...it'd been so easy to deal with the stains on the steps."

"Carol," he urged in a louder voice, "stop."

"I got used to it. I shouldn't have, but I did. I tried to find some pleasure in it at first, but all I could think about that night on the steps, that fight, his hot breath by my ear, the bruises on my hips and my wrists...how much it hurt." Her eyes widened. "I gave up on trying to please myself and started trying to please him so he'd stay calm. So his temper would stay calm. It didn't always work, but I had to try. It was all I could do—"

He whirled around, grasping her shoulders and locking his eyes in hers. "Stop." One word spoke through clenched teeth, his eyes were tearful and pleading, and his hands shook on her shoulders. "Stop."

"The memories never stop," she replied. "I still have nightmares about those days. It comes back to me now and then, and...I can't forget it. I want to. I've tried to burn away that woman, but I can't. Don't you get my point? The past will always be there, but it doesn't have to have power. By ignoring it like you are, you're giving it power. You need to talk about it or find some way to...get those thoughts and feelings out."

"She didn't do anythin' to me."

"But someone did," Carol remarked, setting a hand on his shoulder, tears rising in her eyes. "Someone did hurt you. I remember the scars, Daryl. I've tended to your wounds many times. I know it's eating at you. You've come so far, but do you know that? Do you truly know that?"

He dropped his eyes.

"Talk to me." She pressed her hand into his shoulder. "Pleas—"

He cut her off by kissing her, by forcing her pleas and her statements back into her mouth, and he felt her tears break free from her eyes as they met his cheeks. He could taste her broken heart, and it was the final straw. He broke away from her and flung himself against the cabinets on the floor, pulling his legs up and gripping the short strands of his hair, his eyes welling up.

"Daryl?"

"I can't," he ground out, his face twisting, the light tan of his skin reddening as he struggled to breathe. "I just can't."

"You picked up that book from the shelter. You want to."

He dropped his eyes, inhaling through his mouth to dry the sticky moisture there, his eyes burning as Carol's figure began to blur, and he shook his head. He sputtered something out neither one could quite understand, and he ducked his head down as tears began to flow from those gaping wounds.

"This isn't a battle you have to fight alone." She lowered herself down beside him, knowing getting back up would be a challenge, especially since getting down wasn't a pretty picture. "You don't get very far by going alone. You said that once, not those words, but the same meaning."

He rocked himself side to side once, and he tossed his head back, exhaling sharply, his chest a weave of sorrow and truth. He choked on the inhale, coughing, and Carol tried to ask if he was all right, but he flung himself on her before she could get the words out. He minded the baby, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, the other across her belly to her hip, and he buried his face in her neck. He sobbed so deeply, his entire body quivering, and he stopped holding back.

Carol stroked his hair. Tears were a good sign. They were a first step. She thought he might pick anger, break a few lamps and pant heavily as he screamed out what happened to him as a child, but no. No, the sorrow and confusion chose this path for him. She was happy. It'd finally taken a form, and it'd taken control. He couldn't ignore it, and it was time to air out those feelings, to rip off those drapes of doubt and toss out pictures of pain. She was happy, because they could do that together, and because he'd made the choice himself. He'd made it that day he'd picked up the recovery book, and he was finally ready to start.

––

Rick patrolled the street that night with Michonne. They'd just checked in on Neva, who was staring at the lake in the snow, and Rick thought she might jump, but she didn't move one inch. She just stared, lost in her thoughts. Morgan was watching her from the shed he and Abe had built near by, and Michonne urged Rick to let Morgan handle it.

They patrolled on, Michonne linked her fingers through his, and he glanced from their linked hands to her face, gingerly squeezing them. It was the first real moment they'd had alone. They had been going since Pentaghast and her men had been killed, and the fatigue was settling in. Morgan had rested, hence Michonne pushing Rick to let him handle her. He was more...able than they were at the moment. Should danger arise, they would be on it, but a woman who might take her life? They would be slow to the draw, so it was better Morgan than them.

"What do you say we finish this last part up, turn it over to Francine and Eugene and get some rest?" Michonne suggested.

"I'd say hell yes." He kissed her forehead and stepped up his pace, making her laugh.

"I can't wait to fall into bed." She sighed. "It's been too long."

"We'll have to move Ellie in with Judith," he commented, "to keep an eye on her with the monitor."

"Actually, Eric came by and took her around two." Michonne fell into step with his quick stride. "I haven't seen her since."

"Why did he take her?"

"I don't know. He just told Judy he was taking her playmate for bit, but she'd see her in the morning." She peered at him. "I saw him talking to Neva earlier, so she might have asked him to take her."

He shook his head. "If she's in that place, I don't know if there's anythin' we can do to stop her."

"There's not. You either have the will to live, or you don't. Or you figure out a reason to stay. If Ellie isn't enough...I don't know what would be."

He inhaled the cold winter air. "How's Abraham doing?"

"He's still out of it, but Sasha tells me his heart is strong. His blood pressure is good, according to Denise, and he's recuperating. He just needs time."

"That's good."

"It is. It's really good how much damage Pentaghast and her people did that we can reverse. The babies are all healthy and happy, and people are regaining their strength. We have more food from them hunting, and we have more weapons. We might even acquire a doctor." She shrugged a shoulder. "It's a big win for us."

"That it is." He released her hand and slid his arm around her waist. "I'm glad the boy's all right."

"I know. I was worried about him as well." Michonne tucked her free hand into her jacket pocket. "It mostly worked out. I just...can't get Carol's face out of my head when Neva told us the sex. She didn't look happy. She looked...shaken."

"Did she?"

"Yeah. It wasn't like, "Oh, darn, I wanted a girl". It looked like more than that. I wonder what caused her to make that expression."

"Why don't you ask her?"

"Do you really think she'll tell me?"

"Girl talk," was all he said.

Her brows rose, her lips pursed, and she snickered. "You did not just say that."

"What? She used to talk to you all the time."

"Yeah, about a lifetime ago."

"She'll talk to you again, if you just...prompted her."

"I can always try." She wrapped her arm around his back. "After we sleep and check on Carl."

"He hasn't left his room since we cleared the road." Rick rubbed her side with this thumb. "He's kept Judith with him most of the day, too."

"We should talk to him."

Rick shook his head. "No, I should talk to him. You have a lot to say to him, I know, but...there're some things I need to tell him. You can talk to him after."

She smiled. "Okay, but only because someone has to start breakfast. I can't eat another bowl of stew. It's good, but after nearly three bowls, I can't even look at it."

He chuckled. "I'll stop by the pantry in the morning."

––

"Are you considerin' it?" Morgan approached the small woman who was holding the wooden rail to the fence surrounding the pond.

"Jumping onto the ice until it breaks and drowning, or considering staying in the town where I lost the love of my life?" She turned to him.

"Both, I suppose." He set his hands on the railing.

"I don't know. I can't stop thinking about my daughter. She really was the love of my life, you know. Everything she taught me, everything she gave me...was just...the whole reason I was born, I'm sure. She was my heart. I feel...nothing, not the cold, not the guilt, not the anger. I'm just tired."

"I know the feelin'."

"Do you?"

"I lost my wife and my son," he told her. "First my wife, and I tried to stop her. I tried to kill her after, but I couldn't. I couldn't and because of that I lost my son."

"I'm sorry."

"It was my own fault. I should have taken that shot. I should have...done so many other things than what I did, but it's in the past. He's gone. She's gone. I'm still here, and I don't fully understand why. I just know that I'm here, and I'm doin' what I can to...truly grasp that."

"What is life after the loss of a child?" She shrugged her shoulders. "Is there a point to even trying?"

"There is."

"Says you."

"And Carol," he add. "Abraham, Michonne, Maggie and Glenn."

"I don't know how they go on. I don't even want to survive beyond this moment."

"Not even for the baby?"

"She's...not my grandchild," she confessed. "She's Pentaghast's child."

Morgan didn't see phased.

"But you already knew that, didn't you?"

"I saw her with the child," he confirmed. "And she doesn't favor you at all. They didn't see your daughter, so they'll assume she favors her or father. They won't press."

She rubbed her neck and chuckled once, not a trace of humor in the dry sound. "I just don't care. I want her to be alive. I do want that, but caring about it? It's...impossible. It's all like a bad dream, and I can't feel anything, and I just want to wake up. I want to open my eyes and be with my daughter." Tears sloshed down her cheeks, one after another, seeming to know no end. "I don't want this to be real. This can't be my reality."

"Yet it is. It's bitter and no one you expect, certainly not one you could ever want, but it is your life now. You have to decide what to do with it."

She shook her head and let it drop into her hands. "How can I decide anything?"

"You mourn," he answered, "and then you decide."

– – –

It was morning when Daryl opened his eyes to find the most important woman in his life asleep in front of him. The warm light seeped in through the parted curtains, Carol was breathing gently, and he felt like he'd actually rested too. He couldn't help but feel refreshed. He wasn't...thrilled, wasn't elated, wasn't ready to bounce up and down with joy, but...there was a wall gone. The hidden part of him was naked and revealed now, and it felt...paralyzing and nice. Life and air flowed through that once empty space, and he felt renewed. It was a start he'd meant to begin months ago, but better late than never.

He reached out and caressed Carol's stomach, smiling her hand moved to his in her sleep, and he scooted closer, burying his face in her hair and kissing the top of her head. She murmured something incoherently and drifted deeper into sleep, and he closed his eyes, smiling widely. Yeah, better late than never.


	39. Follow The Sun

Enid adjusted the saddle, stroking the long neck of the horse, who had thankfully been spared any abuse. She checked the pouches attached to the saddle to see what supplies they would be taking with them and tossed in a few more canned fruits. She turned to find Carl standing in the doorway to the barn, peeking in on her with Judith on his hip.

"Hey." She pulled out a smile but didn't move closer to him.

"Hey."

"Hi," Judith uttered from her brother's shoulder.

Enid's smile softened, and she crossed her arms. "Hello, Judy."

Carl adjusted her and met Enid's eyes. "You're leaving soon. Denise told me."

"Not for good, just for a bit. We're looking for supplies. Maggie and Rick decided a monthly trip would be helpful. We may find goods we didn't know we need, and we might be able to find things we'll need in the future. We could always use more seeds and medicine."

"And your classes?"

"Are almost over. Denise and I are going to finish our muscle lesson when Glenn and I return. Neva's my next teacher."

"That's great."

"It is. I'm excited." She lowered her arms and stepped towards him. "When Glenn and I return, before Denise and I leave, I'd like to talk to you."

"I don't want to talk about what happened."

"Neither do I. I've already spoken to Maggie and Glenn and Denise about it. I really don't want to talk about it anymore. I just wanted to talk to you, because I haven't in weeks. Pentaghast has been dead and burned, but I haven't gotten around to speaking with you. I want to change that. We...had something, and I'd like to keep it."

He smiled softly. "Me too."

She closed the space between them, searching his eye before placing a gentle kiss to his lips. She cupped his cheeks as she did so and stepped back once their lips parted. "I'll see you when I get back."

"I look forward to it."

She mounted the horse and guided it out of the barn to pick up Glenn from the house. She didn't look back at Carl, but she did smile to herself, biting her bottom lip to try and contain it. Good things seldom died, Maggie told her last night, and perhaps it was true.

Glenn was saying goodbye to Maggie, slightly concerned about her well being lately. She hadn't been feeling too great, and after everything that happened, he worried it might be an infection from her wound not being treated for so long. Or she might have an illness. He didn't like the feeling settling in his stomach.

"I'm fine." She hugged her arms. "Or I will be. I'm gonna stay inside and rest."

He held her hips. "Good, because I'm sending Carol to keep an eye on you."

"I thought she and Daryl were...busy." She moistened her lips. "He asked me to cover his wall shifts and asked Abe to cover his construction shifts, 'cause he and Carol had baby things to do."

"He's definitely not with Carol. She's coming to check in on you. She's going to make some soup."

"If I am sick, I don't want her around me. I don't want to risk getting her sick."

"She has a strong immune system, and the soup is just so you have something hot to eat." He smiled. "And she wants company. I thought you'd like some, too."

"I would, actually. I could talk to her about some things."

"What things? Things you can't tell me?"

"No, things that involve her and her baby. Like his name. Or how this godparent things works." While they were both healthy and alive and there to raise the baby always. She just wondered if they got first dibs on babysitting if Carol and Daryl went on a run or got sick or anything.

He nodded and spotted Enid. "We'll be careful and be back as soon as we can."

"Take your time. I'll be okay. I've got Luck and Carol to keep me company, and I'm meeting with Michonne to discuss some expansion plans. I'll hardly know you're gone."

"I feel so loved." Enid smirked at Maggie.

"If you ever doubt that I love you, you've lost your mind." She walked over to her and grasped her hand. "Be careful, okay? And avoid any place that looks suspicious or easy. They tend to not be, and the suspicious places tend to be...a nightmare."

"We'll be careful." Enid squeezed her hand. "We won't take what's easy. Unless it's super easy then it's just being stupid."

"Or if it's easy and the catch is visible." Glenn mounted the horse behind Enid. "We know what to look for, and we'll all be back."

"Good." She set a hand on the horse's neck and gently patted there. "Be safe. I'll see you soon."

"Bye." Enid smiled down at her.

She released her hands from both the horse's neck and Enid's hand and stepped back. She watched them take their leave and set a hand on stomach, trying to still the nerves still. They would be fine. She would be fine. She wasn't sick. She...hoped she wasn't sick, because she'd seen Daryl lurking around Denise's, and she doubted it had to do with the baby. She'd let them have their time and maybe drop in for a checkup. She had wandered in the cold quite a bit last week, so it was better to be safe than sorry. Or to at least recover before Glenn got back and could say he was right.

––

Neva finished up her appointment with Carol, who had dropped by unexpectedly, and she wondered what had Carol so worried. Perhaps the dreams were getting to her. Neva had strange dreams when she was pregnant. She had a litter of puppies. Evil puppies. It was funny considering how sweet her girl was...

"Have you noticed anything off?" Neva removed her gloves. "Anything that might make you anxious?"

"No. Everything's normal. I just... I'm sorry. I just wanted to see him." She turned to face Neva. "I didn't have any concerns."

"Oh, well that's good." She smiled. "And that's fine. Anytime you want to see him, let me know."

Carol glanced at the closed door to Denise's office, and Neva noticed.

"Do you want to talk to her?"

"It can wait." She stepped back. "I'm gonna spend some time with Maggie. Maybe I'll drop by after."

She nodded. "Be careful. It's slippery out there."

"I will be. Thanks." She left through the back door.

Neva was about to return to her room when someone else entered the clinic. Someone and sweet baby Ellie.

"Hey." Eric beamed at her, holding a bundled Ellie close. "I heard you wanted to talk to me. Aaron's on the wall, otherwise he'd be here."

"It's okay. Please, sit with me." She headed towards the living room and sat on the armchair, watching Eric sit on the couch and adjust Ellie on his lap. She was used to being passed around from woman to woman, but she was never too fond of men. She supposed Eric just had a gentle enough aura that it didn't bother her. The men in their group were rough with her, cruel even if they got a hold of her. Most wanted to kill her to get back at Pentaghast. Others wanted to rattle her up, make her cry so they could leave her for walkers. As anyone could assume, those assholes all met a slow death.

"How's she been?"

"Good. She's been so good." He smiled widely at her. "She's really well behaved. She hardly cries. She doesn't have many fits."

"She was always calm." Unlike her mother. A trait from her father, Neva assumed. She hoped she got many more from him. "How's she been eating?"

"Like a starved man." He laughed. "She loves yams, and she loves when Aaron feeds her. She'll go up to him whenever she's hungry." He had gotten a few pictures of Aaron holding her and feeding her after a long shift. Sometimes he'd find Aaron passed out on the couch with her on his stomach, the burping towel and bottle on the floor. It was sweet.

"That's good." She laced her fingers together. "You've had her for a couple weeks now while I've...mourned." Tried to mourn, anyway. "It means a lot to me. I'm thankful."

"Does that mean you're ready for her?" He swallowed with some difficulty. He wasn't quite ready for their time to end. He'd gotten used to spending his days with her.

"You keep calling Ellie "her". All the times you talk about Ellie, it's always a pronoun, never her name." She asked, "Why don't you use her name?"

"It just doesn't seem to fit her." He would say it to get her attention, but it never felt like the correct name when it left his lips. It was a sour taste. It wasn't her.

"What does?" Neva arched a brow at the man.

"Eli." He felt her look up at him and smiled down at her. "She seems to like it, too. It seems to fit her better. It's...not an old name, but it's not new, either. It's...just right for her."

"Eli." She chuckled. "It's a lovely name. I had a good friend in college named Eli. He was a free spirit, very compassionate. He would give you the clothes off his very back if you asked. You could be lying to him, but he'd give them up all the same with a huge smile."

"He sounds wonderful."

"He was." She cleared her throat and stepped closer to him. "You and Aaron are taking excellent care of her, aren't you?"

"Yes, we adore her. She's a perfect guest." He felt her little fingers curl around his hand. "She's one of the most well mannered person I've met since I came here."

"She's very like her father," Neva agreed.

"I suppose." He turned his hand so that his palm was facing hers. She wanted to separate his fingers to chew on them, but he hadn't washed his hands since he finished his duty in the garden. He didn't want her to be munching on any dirt under his nails. He doubted that'd taste good.

"About me taking her," Neva changed the subject and met his eyes. "You mentioned it."

"I figured that's why you wanted to see me. You're ready to take her back."

She noted how he lost that twinkle in his eyes. "I'm ready, yes."

"I have most of her things at the house. I can go and get them." He rose off the couch and kissed her forehead, muttering a gentle goodbye. "Here. I'll just be a few minutes." He wanted to leave before he got upset.

Neva stood up and grasped the toddler in her arms, smiling a greeting at her. "Hello, Eli. It's lovely to meet you." She shook her little hand, and Eli giggled at her. "Ah, there's a toothy grin. I haven't seen that in months."

Eric couldn't help but smile at the child's little grin.

Neva hummed. "It's not for me, you know." She rubbed Eli's chunky little leg through her pants and met Eric's eyes. "It's for you."

"I bet she's just happy to see you," he rolled his eyes to keep his emotions in check.

"Maybe." She walked around the coffee table. "Or maybe it's a farewell to me. Maybe...it's a farewell to her life with me and a happy hello to her new life with you."

Eric met her eyes and stammered.

"She needs solid parents. I can't offer her anything like I gave my daughter. I'm an old woman. A grandmother. I don't have the energy to keep up with a growing girl." She handed Eli back to him. "She's taken to you. I can see she has, and I won't stand in the way of her being happy. She deserves...a chance at normal, and I'm...coping to this new life without my Jo. She needs a whole heart and boundless love to guide her. I can see you and Aaron provide that easily, so if you want her to be in your family...she's yours."

"Are you sure?" Was all he could think to ask.

"I'm sure. I won't come for her when she's older, because she's out of her terrible twos and threes." She moistened her lips. "It's time for me to move on with my life, and I don't think I can do that with such a huge piece of my daughter's heart so close to me. I...I'd just see her and all of my doubts and self-loathing would return. I can't let her grow up around that. It's my burden, and she'll have her own some day. I'd rather that day come much, much later."

"I don't know what to say."

"Don't say, just...raise her. Raise her to be a good woman in a storm, to be relentlessly kind and fiercely gentle. To be...everything that this world will teach her is weakness, but show her the strength and intelligence to know...what's best. Don't teach her the easy way. Teach her a survivor's way, but with heart."

"That's a lot to ask," Erick commented.

"I wouldn't ask if you weren't up for the task." She smiled softly. "You have heart, and Aaron has skill. I'm sure you'll raise her this way without trying."

"Thank you, Neveah."

"No, thank you." She stroked Eli's soft, baby-fine hairs. "You've given my daughter's heart a home. I cannot think of anything...to say or do to show my gratitude." She smiled. "Take care of her."

"I will. We will." He returned her smile. "Thank you."

She inhaled shakily and nodded. "And if you ever need a babysitter—"

"You'll be the first to know," he vowed.

She nodded. "Go. Go and tell Aaron." She shooed him out of the clinic and collapsed into the desk chair, exhaling deeply and closing her eyes. The last part of her daughter was in that girl, and she would pray it lived on forever. And any memory of that bitch who carried her burned away, forever forgotten.

Perhaps it would be best if she were here to witness that—the erasing of Pentaghast and how amazing nurture really was. Yeah, it would be best to be here. There was no other place for her to go, after all. She had a grandchild here, and it was the last place her daughter was alive. Terrible as it was, it was still the last place Jo slept and woke and walked. Her memory...was still alive here, and Neva would soak it in until her last breath.

– – –

Daryl sat on the couch in Denise's office, twisting his thumb and index finger on one hand around his ring finger on the other hand, feet planted firmly on the floor. His back was slouched against the couch, eyes downward on the carpet, and he was trying to put his thoughts into words. She knew a lot now. More than anybody, even Carol, knew, and being so honest didn't feel good. He didn't feel liberated simply talking to her. He felt...heavy. His heart pounded, and his blood seemed to run cold whenever she nodded him along. It felt wrong. He felt like he was betraying something. Someone. But it didn't matter how he felt, because at the end of their sessions, he felt...a weight come off his shoulders. He didn't feel judged. He didn't feel stupid or angry. Some emotions did carry over their time, but...he managed them. He was able to...finally manage them.

"I...feel like it was my fault," he mumbled, not wanting her to hear this confession. "I feel like I did somethin' somewhere in my life that...earned me his abuse, you know?"

"Why do you feel that way?"

"I dunno." He lifted his head, his vision blurry, and thankfully his bangs had grown out some, so he didn't have to worry about her seeing his eyes right now. "I just feel that way."

"Okay." Denise nodded. "What else happens when you get in that head space of "I earned this"?"

He shuffled his feet and blew out a sigh, continuing on with the session. He had a lot to share, and he knew Denise squirmed in her chair, but she didn't stop him. She encouraged him when he wasn't sure if he should speak, and she assured him he was all right when he couldn't. It wasn't like he thought it was going to be, and it strengthened their relationship. He was glad to have taken this step—for his son, for himself. He didn't want to move forward with this new life still dragging around chains of the past. It wasn't as simple as that, but it was getting easier. Breathing, remembering, talking—it was getting easier.

They parted ways at the door, and Daryl found her waiting for him. He was surprised to see her there, but it was a welcome one. He...felt terrible about that night in the kitchen, still, and Denise had tried to move him beyond that guilt, but it didn't work. He was holding onto it, and only he could let go of it. He just didn't know when that would be.

"Howdy." Carol grinned at him, and he chuckled, ducking his head as he drew near.

"Hi." He lifted his head once he was before her, and he smiled at her. "What're you doin' here? I thought you and Mag had plans."

"We do. I was hoping you'd walk me." She reached out and ran her fingers down his arm to grasp his wrist. "Do you have time?"

He shook her hand off his wrist, grasping it once it loosened and interlocking their fingers. "Yeah, I got time." He kissed her temple and guided her towards Maggie and Glenn's place.

"What are your plans?" Carol peeked at him.

"I dunno, probably gonna go home and change the nursery sheets."

"Again?"

"They get dusty."

"Right." She inhaled and hummed. "Anything else?"

"Not till you get back." He leg go of her hand and wrapped his arm around her waist. "I'm gonna made dinner then, draw a bath."

"What's the occasion?"

"I need a bath," he mused. "Smell like construction and a stuffy office."

She laughed. "I'm being serious."

"So am I." He smirked.

"Well, I guess it saves me getting the hose." She fell quiet after that, and Daryl didn't like it.

"You all right?"

"Yeah, just... It's getting close, and I don't know what I'm feeling. Excited? Not really. Scared? A little. Mostly...I'm anxious. I don't...know."

"Don't let all that shit Pentaghast said influence you," Daryl stated. "It'll be fine. We'll be fine."

"It's not about being fine," she muttered.

He stopped walking and faced her. "Is there somethin' you wanna tell me?" He met her eyes. "'Cause I'm right here. I don't...wanna walk in circles. I think we did that enough at the start of this."

I just have a bad feeling about this was what she wanted to say, but she didn't. She couldn't. She drew in a breath. "I don't know. I guess I'm just not sleeping a whole lot lately. It's starting to show. I'm sorry."

"Don't be worry. It's all right." He reached up and lifted her chin. "You'll be great, like always."

She chuckled. "You're blind then."

"Ain't love blind or some shit like that?"

She smiled and kissed him. "C'mon, I should get to Maggie's. She's expecting me."

He caught her waist. "She's been expectin' you," he reminded her. "I doubt a couple more minutes is gonna do any harm."

"Not...here." She glanced around at the people walking to and fro, and she felt embarrassed.

He bumped his forehead on hers and exhaled. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong." She had her eyes closed. "I'm just...feeling more reserved about...open affection."

"Okay." He stepped back and caught her hand. "Let's get to Maggie's then."

She could tell he was somewhat hurt by that, but it was true. She didn't like all the eyes on them. She had to deal with them enough when they were living with Rick and Michonne, and she didn't want them to intrude. It felt like they were when they watched them or glanced at them. After all this time either being blissfully unaware or blind to her feelings toward him, she wanted...this relationship to just be them. It had been them and Tobin then them and Rick, but now it could just be them. She wanted to bask in that. Alone. At home.

They walked into Maggie's house a few moments later, Daryl parted by the door, and Carol tried to get him to stay a bit, but he had to do something all of a sudden. She didn't know what, but she didn't bother keeping him there. He clearly wanted to be elsewhere.

"I'll walk you home," he offered and kissed her.

"That's okay. I'll be fine." She set a hand on his chest. "But thanks. You can just stay and soak in your bubble bath. I might eat dinner here, too. I told Glenn I'd make her soup."

"Never said I was givin' you a choice—about walking you home, anyway." They could do dinner any night.

"Fine." She smirked at him. "I'll see you later."

"Have fun." He set a hand on her belly, stroking lightly with his thumb. "I'll drop by in a few hours. If you're not ready, I'll just hang around Aaron's."

"With Eli," she added.

"Didn't say that."

"Eli is a part of his life now. His and Eric's. They're a family, so you'll be spending time with the three of them." A tender smile appeared on her lips. "You're really...taken with her."

"They're my friends."

"Daryl, it's okay to tell me you're going over to see a toddler. I promise I won't get jealous," she jested. "I'm glad that you're bonding with Judy's new best friend and the newest Raleigh. Proves Judy wasn't a fluke."

"You're an ass."

She giggled. "I love you, Daryl."

He smiled somewhat. "I love you, too."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him, and since they were away from eyes and away from Denise's clinic, she didn't feel like shying away. She didn't like to do too much directly after his meetings with Denise in case anything lingered. She knew a lot lingered for her, so she wanted to be careful. She also didn't want to catch Tara sending her thumb's up or Glenn giving an OK sign with his hands as they walked by. It was really annoying that they found it so hilarious. She didn't tell Daryl about it, especially not Abraham's. He'd probably die. She even blushed. They were far too invested in the lives of other people—namely Carol and Daryl. At least Michonne kept Rick straight.

Daryl's hand found its way into her soft hairs, first cradling the top of her head then twisting into the silky curls that formed at the tips. The other hand rested firmly on the small of her back adding no pressure since the space between them was already occupied. He loved the taste of her mouth. There was always a faint taste of mint from when she brushed her teeth, a sweetness he didn't know where it came from, and it made him want more. He had spent so many nights with her like this, but they never went any further. He didn't want to push, and honestly...being just with her in this way felt like enough.

"Mmm," Carol broke away from him, breathless. "Maggie."

"What?" he was confused. Where did Maggie come from all of a sudden?

"This is her house." She chuckled at his blank expression. "We...have to stop. You have...things, and I really should check on her. I promised Glenn I would."

"Yeah...right." He cleared his throat. "Yeah, I got...erm, stuff, so yeah. I'll...be back by later."

"Have fun with Eli."

"Have fun with the pregnant lady."

"I always do." She smirked suggestively at him, and he narrowed his eyes. She kissed him lightly once for a goodbye and headed up to find Maggie.

Okay, maybe it wasn't enough, he thought to himself as he backed out of the house.

––

In her office Maggie scribbled out more detailed notes onto Deanna's plans, listing the materials they would need to expand, and she could feel the ideas flowing through her and out of her pen. She had a count of their current supplies, and when Glenn and Enid came back, they would have more. Or at least a way to obtain more. It would help further Alexandria. It would help further the living in this world full of decay.

"How's it coming?" Carol sat beside her at the table.

"Pretty well." She set her pen down. "I'm gonna turn over this section to Abe tomorrow." She gestured to what she was talking about. "Maybe give Eric this for crops."

"Wow, that's extensive."

"I have a lot of time on my hands now that I'm not being held captive." She smiled though. "And I want...to channel all my anger and annoyance at Pentaghast for trying to burn this place and us to the ground by...raising it up to...hope. I want sustainability for us. I want a future. I want all of the people who live here to thrive long after we're all gone. I want this place to be...the start of regaining what we lost when the world went to shit."

Carol returned her smile. "Sounds...like a challenge, but you have the passion and time for it."

"It's the future," Maggie added. "It's...everythin'."

Carol sat beside her. "It is, isn't it?"

She crossed her legs. "Your baby is the future. Judy. Eli. Carl. Enid. We're building a world for them. We won't get to see the full fruits of our efforts, but your son and his son and his son's son will. Judith's, her daughter and her daughter's daughter will. I've put these plans off long enough, and I'm glad everything happened the way it did with me." She paused and her knuckles when white as her fingers closed around the pen she was holding. "It's been difficult, and I won't forget any of it, but...it's given me a new perspective. I wish it had come at an easier price, but I've had enough of wishes."

"I think we all have."

She exhaled and released the pen. "I'm ready for the future. Come what may, I will keep these walls standin'. It won't be another farm or prison. It'll be Alexandria. It won't be looked back on in flames. It won't be filled with walkers. It'll be filled with people and growth and children and laughter. We'll...heh, we'll have Sunday dinners on the lawn and bonfires in the summer. We'll have birthdays and marriages and funerals. We'll live life, and we won't be bogged down by walkers and enemies. We'll stand united with our allies, like the Hilltop. We'll forge and strike deals. We'll be fair. We won't be used ever again."

Carol's smile widened. "That's admirable, Maggie."

"It's what I want, what Daddy would have wanted, Deanna and Reg, too." She met her eyes. "But more importantly it's what we deserve. A home. Happiness. Normalcy. I'm going to bring those things to our people, and if I can't then whoever takes my place will."

"Have anybody in mind?" Carol inquired.

She chuckled. "Not really. I mean, who knows what these babies will grow up into? Leaders or hunters. All warriors, no doubt about that, but the rest? Who can say?"

"Any child of yours and Glenn will be a natural leader."

"What makes you say that?"

"Because it's the truth. No world like this could hope to thrive without people like you. And Glenn and Carl and Michonne. You're all warriors like you said, but...your hearts are immeasurable. You've struggled through so much, lost so much, and here you are, ready to guide the world towards hope. It makes me happy that you and he are godparents to my son. He'll be guided down the right path from all angles."

She smiled and reached for her hand. "Thank you, Carol."

"No, thank you." She squeezed her hand. "And don't give up."

"I won't. No matter how many times I get knocked down, I'll always get right back up." She blinked back tears, her lips parting as her tongue rested underneath a top tooth, and she nodded. "I have so many people I've lost there to help me get back on my feet, so I know I won't stay down for long. I can't."

Carol blinked back tears of her own. "I'll go make some tea."

"I'd love some."

She patted her hand headed towards the kitchen, Maggie set her fingertips over the worn necklace wrapped around her wrist, and she closed her eyes.

Take my hand, I'm standing right here. You gotta hold on...

A smile crossed her lips, her hand moved down to her stomach, an unanswered hope possibility growing there, and she stroked her thumb across the smooth material of her blouse. She hadn't confirmed it. She didn't want to know just yet, but soon. Once Glenn was back, once the weather had calmed, they'd find out together. Them and Enid, as a family. That was the only way to move forward now—together. For her family and for her people.

"Keep singin', Bethy," Maggie whispered. "For my baby with you, and the one with us."

––

"How's she doing?" Michonne leaned the doorway to Judith's bedroom, finding Carl sitting there against the wall, knees upraised with their arms resting across them. He held one of Judith's cloth dolls in his fingers, and he was staring off into space. "I believe that's one called Dool."

He exhaled. "She tore a hole in it," he explained. "I was patching it up since Carol isn't here to do that anymore. I need to learn how anyway. She can't take care of my holes forever. She shouldn't have to."

"She doesn't mind to."

"She'll have a baby to take care of," he mumbled. "I couldn't ask her."

Michonne pushed off the frame and sauntered inside. "She looks pretty patched up to me."

"She is." He lowered one leg and let his arms fall to his lap, still holding the doll. "I...had a friend who had a cloth doll. It was a gift from another friend. A parting gift."

She nodded. "That so?"

"She loved it. She held it all the time." He smiled fondly. "She didn't play with it, using silly voices or anything, just cradled it to her chest. I'm not so sure she believed in all that."

"All what?" Michonne prodded.

"Playing. Making up a whole world for your toys and all that. I... I never saw her do that. She played with us, but she never...played with the doll. I used to play with action figures, go out on secret missions and do all kinds of adult and violent stuff." He chuckled in memory. "But Sophia never once...played like I did. I mean, her reality sucked. I don't understand...why she wouldn't build an escape."

"Maybe she couldn't give anyone, even a doll, a false reality."

"Maybe. It's not like I can ask her." He set the doll down beside her. "I wish I could. But if I wished that, I'd wish that I could go back and save...so many people." His eye lifted until it locked in hers. "I dreamed that I saved her. I...had this whole scene worked out in my head. I'd be the one to find her...hiding somewhere, like a cave or up a tree, and I'd bring her home. We'd...walk out of the woods, holding hands, and I'd bring her to Carol. She would have some cuts and bruises, but she'd be okay. Hershel would look her over, and we'd be playing and doing school work like before.

"But like before never came. She stumbled out of a barn, and...everything changed. I knew the world was bad, walkers were dangerous, but seeing her...made it all sink in. After all I'd seen, all I'd been through up until that point, it was her that cemented the picture." He dropped his other leg and loosely laced his fingers together between his thighs. "Then Dale...and then my mom. Every time I lose someone, the picture changes. I was scared when I lost Sophia. I was numb and shaken when we lost Dale. And when it came...to Mom...it was different."

"How do you mean?"

"The picture didn't change, I...did. For better or worse, I changed. I won't ever be able to get back to who I was that day in the quarry when my mom was cutting my hair and Shane was joking about eating frog legs. And that's not a bad thing. Of all the things I lost, that wasn't a bad one, but..." He huffed, unable to find the words.

"It was your choice," Michonne offered, "and it was taken away."

He nodded. "It's just hair, and yeah, it'll grow back, but...Mom was the last person to cut my hair. It sucked." He laughed softly. "It hurt, and I squirmed, but...I sat through it. And...it didn't seem right to cut my own hair or let Dad do it. Mom...was the only one who cut my hair, or decided to get my hair cut before all of this. I...don't know that I would have cut it one day. Maybe I'd have to tie it back, but it would have been my choice to let someone else do for me what my mom last did. I lost so much of her. I lost the sound of her laughter, the image of her family, the way her eyes lit up when she talked to Carol. I lost the only picture left of her...and now the hair."

"You're getting some of them back," Michonne reminded him. "It's not quite...how you'd want it, but it's there. In Judith's smile. In her eyes when she looks at you. I didn't know Lori, so maybe I'm talking out of my ass, but...Rick's told me about her, and I did see that picture. She's looking more and more like Lori each day, and while it'll never heal that hole, it can help it. Lori lives on through Judith and through you. She survived the farm and the prison and Terminus and all of it through you. You carry her around with you every single day, Carl. She's in your smile. She's in your glares. She's...in that pale skin of yours."

He smiled weakly. "My glares?"

"You didn't get that look from Rick. Some of them, but not that one." She smirked. "You'll never be held by her again, but you hold her with you every day. Her memory...will always be in your head and in your heart, and it'll never be enough, but you didn't lose all of her that day."

He nodded slowly, his eye filling with tears.

"It's hard to move on from a loss like that. It's...impossible even, but moving on doesn't mean letting her go. Lori...will always have a hold of you, Carl, and of Judith." She was about to continue when the next thing she knew she was jolted from the force of his hug. She blinked, not even seeing him move, and she felt his head on her chest. She relaxed and felt him shaking. She hugged him back tightly. "Knowing how much I love you, Carl, I know how much she loved you. And a mother's love is a bond that can't be broken."

He dug his fingers into her back, and Michonne kissed his temple, shushing not him but the demons that were preying on him. They wouldn't get her boy. She wouldn't let them, and she knew he wouldn't succumb to them, but right now after all that had happened, he needed a little aid. She was happy to lend her blade.

Rick stood in the hallway with Judith, having overheard the conversation, and he held Judith closer as she gnawed on her fist. He kissed her temple and headed back to the living room. This moment was for Carl and Michonne, and he would find a moment for him and Carl later. He had some stories for him about his mom. How she was during her pregnancy, how excited she was to have him, all of it. They were fading memories after all these years, and Carl needed them, so he'd tell him now. It wouldn't fill the void, but it would certainly bring a smile to the face of someone who really needed it.

"Judy, Judy." He lifted her up and sat on the couch, placing her on his knees facing her. Those big eyes met his, and she smiled around her fist. He couldn't help but smile back. "Wanna hear a story about your mama? Hmm?"

"Yah," was her reply.

"Well, I got a few." He set his hands on her hips and bounced his knees. "I think you'll like this one. It involves her best friend Carol..."

– – –

"No name yet?" Aaron worked on finishing his now cold dinner as he'd spent the majority of the evening trying to get Eli to eat her veggies. She was no fan of peas. Or carrots. Or corn. He was wearing most of it. She could throw like a son of a bitch. She even hit Abe square in the face with the bowl. It sent both her and Sasha doubled over in laughter. Abe was less thrilled, but he was a good sport about it. They did leave after dessert though, but who could blame them? He had corn lost in both his beard and his shirt.

"I've been thinkin' about names." Daryl shared his pudding with Eli, who had fussed until she got the lap seat. Apparently Eric's bony lap and Aaron's pea stained one wasn't favorable. Daryl had put on some weight since he and Carol moved in together, because they had to cook a bit more food for her to eat. It just happened to be really good, and he wanted an extra plate. Or two. Sometimes two and a half, but only if she made it into a pie. God, they were so fucking good. He could die in one of those and just be content as fuck.

"But you haven't settled on one?" Eric was clearing the table.

"Nah. I mean, I haven't talked it over with Carol since the last few I came up with, but..." He shrugged.

"But?" Aaron pushed, swallowing. "That's a hesitant but."

He stammered and faltered. "It's nothin'." He won the spoon and ate some of the pudding, Eli fussed at him. "You gotta learn to share, kid." She pouted, so he scooped some out and shared it with her. She smiled and leaned back against him like he was an armchair.

"What's nothing?" Eric set a hand on the back of Aaron's chair on his second trip back in, his other hand on his hip. "It's stupid, like...Jayvon or something?"

Daryl frowned like he'd eaten rotten meat. "The hell kind of name is Jayvon?"

"A prick I went to school with. Kinda hope he got eaten alive."

"Eric," Aaron exclaimed.

"What? He was a jackass." He collected the empty plate Aaron had. "It'd be karma."

He rolled his eyes. "That's just asking karma to come and do that to you."

"What's the name?" Eric instead called from the kitchen.

"It's...kinda stupid." He held onto Eli as she went all jelly-like and tried to slide off his lap. There must be something in the kitchen she wanted. He'd gotten to know her the last few times he'd been over, and she did this when someone had food she wanted or if Aaron or Eric were about to leave. She apparently thought it would prevent them from leaving, because clearly Jello Eli was unmovable. He hated to burst her bubble, but she was going to smack her head on the dinner table if she kept wriggling, so he sat her upright. She blinked and looked very confused at Aaron, who smiled and pressed his hand against his lips to keep from laughing. A few snorts came through, though.

"Just tell us." Aaron cleared his throat. "We won't laugh at it or think it's stupid."

"Or we'll just do it later, when you're not sitting at our kitchen table." Eric smirked playfully at him.

Daryl pursed his lips and told them the name he'd come up with. They were both surprised, but they loved it. Daryl didn't know how he felt about explaining how he came up with the name, and he wasn't going to tell them, because they would laugh. It was embarrassing, and he'd rather just tell Carol. If he told anybody. He could just take it to the grave with him.

And then he didn't have to answer, because Eli through a fit. Eric's eyes shut, his lips drew a high thin line at her shrill cries, and Aaron hopped up and collected her off Daryl's lap. She was up past her bedtime due to company, so she was grouchy. Well, that was putting it lightly. The girl was screaming murder. Bloody murder. She also hadn't gotten her daily nap in, and it was just...a really bad fit. They were rare, but when they happened, watch your head.

"She wouldn't go down after I saw Neva," Eric explained, "so I went on a walk with her and Sasha, and...I just got busy with dinner after that. She's not a happy camper today anyway. She's been upset. I don't know why. I think...she understands what happened with Neva."

"Kids are perceptive." Eric nodded. "She'll calm down once she's in her bed, right?"

"Oh, yeah. Aaron sings her some lullabies, and she's out like a light." He picked up the empty bowl of pudding. "I'm gonna wash these dishes, but you're welcome to stay. We're going to have a glass of wine to celebrate our...gift, and you're welcome to join us."

"Nah, I gotta meet Carol, but thanks."

"Anytime. Bring her by sometime too. I hardly see her."

"I'll try." He stood up and glanced down the hall where her bedroom now was, and curiosity got the best of him as her wails quieted. He edged down the hall to find her dozing off in Aaron's arms to the sound of his voice, gripping the hole between buttons on his shirt tightly.

"...for one so small, you seem so strong. My arms will hold you, keep you safe and warm," he sang. "I will be here, don't you cry."

Daryl's eyes narrowed at the familiarity of that song. He knew it was from a kid's movie. He'd heard it when Enid babysat Judy a few times, but...there was another voice in his head. A younger voice, a girl. It wasn't Enid, and it was...almost like this. This same picture, only Eli was holding onto her index finger, and the girl was walking by a hallway... It was like a dream. A dream of a dream.

"It's all that works to put her down." Aaron had gotten her to drift off while Daryl was lost in thought. "I tried so many songs before I came to that one. I nearly pulled all of my hair out." He placed her down gently into the bed and hummed a few more verses to ensure the movement wouldn't wake her then tiptoed out of the room, pulling the door so that it was slightly ajar.

"Yeah?"

"I'm so glad I'm with someone who loves kids movies."

"Tarzan was my first crush," Eric confessed. "I watched that movie about...ten times. A week." A bit more when he was thirteen...

Daryl shifted uncomfortably, assuming what else Eric had done during those ten times a week, and he headed for the door. "Carol oughta be ready to get home. It's late, and y'all got a lot to celebrate, but umm, thanks for dinner. And dessert."

"We're happy to have you."

Aaron walked him to the door. "Maybe we can...do some triple dates later."

Daryl frowned. "Triple dates?"

"Us adults and the kids," he clarified.

"Oh, yeah. Carol would like that." He smiled a little. "See ya later. Have a good night." He stepped off the porch and headed for Maggie's, knowing Carol hadn't left yet.

Eric crossed his arms and leaned in the doorway. "Do you think our sex life will decline now that we have a toddler?"

"I think our sex life will decline if you keep talking about your Tarzan crush."

"Have you seen that movie?"

"Yes, I have. Some people like you wanted to bone him, some of us wanted to be him."

He arched a brow. "Oh, really?"

"I didn't mean me, and even if I did mean me, it's a no."

"Oh, come on." He followed him back inside the house.

Daryl trotted along the sidewalk to Maggie's house, glancing up a few times to find the moon and its grey light casting shadows on the ground. He inhaled and hurried his pace. He wanted to catch Carol before she was too sleepy to talk. He had some things he wanted to discuss tonight, and he didn't want her passing out ten minutes into his rant. Again.

As luck would have it, he caught her just as she was leaving, she made a face at him, as she'd told him not to come and get her, but it faded quickly. He said goodnight to Maggie, and they headed home hand in hand.

Once there and inside, Daryl built a fire, and Carol kicked her boots off, getting comfortable on the couch. She had already eaten as well, so he grabbed a few dried fruit and threw them together in a bowl for snacks. It was pretty much all that had for snacks after Neva went on a kick, and Carol liked them, so it worked. He planned mostly on talking, so maybe it would be best if she was munching. She wouldn't be sleeping that way.

"You seem serious." Carol studied him. "Did you have a good time at Aaron and Eric's?"

"Yeah, it was great. Got to see Abe and Sasha, too. I was...the dessert favorite for Eli."

She smiled. "I think you're just good at winning little girls' hearts. Judy loves you. The kids at the prison. Beth. You're a cool older brother, a badass hunter, a...complete teddy bear."

He glared. He resented that last comment.

"Daryl, you've read books to our son and made voices. You can't fool me."

"I don't...make voices." He tossed a small log into the fire, grumbling to himself.

"He loves those voices," Carol informed him. "He especially likes Mr. Fox. He kicks super hard when you use that voice. It makes him happy."

He smiled a little. "He does?"

"Yes. He loves you."

"Think he'd love Tobin?" Daryl looked down at the floor.

Carol hadn't expected that, but she didn't hesitate. "Yeah, I think he would've loved Tobin. He would have been a good father. He just let the worst of him win, and...I wish it had turned out differently for our son, but...if wishes were poppy, we'd all be dreaming."

"I think we oughta incorporate his name into our son's name. I mean, it's only...fair."

"A name doesn't fill the gap," Carol remarked, "but I think you're right. Maybe a middle name? Like Toby."

His smile came back. "That's cute. Reminds me of a puppy though."

She laughed. "Don't tell him that."

He joined her on the couch. "I...uh, actually got a name in mind, and I got a story behind why I want to use it."

"I love your stories, just like our son." She gave him her full attention.

"Greyson." He peeked at her.

"Grey...son?" She hummed. It felt odd on her tongue, but not wrong. "Greyson Toby Dixon."

"It just... Well, I think of it like this," he blurted, thinking she hated it. "When I first found out you were pregnant and how you'd gone out of your way to hide it from me...everything was pretty shit. I mean, I ditch town for days, and it was rainin'. It was mucky and just...well, grey. Even the pharmacy I broke into was grey. Uh, anyway, when I got back and we talked...it got better. Not right away, but gradually, and...we had a lot of good days."

"Even when I broke out of town for air?" She wore a wince, waiting for a negative response.

"Yeah, actually." He chuckled, remembering that night. "It was kinda nice to get away, just us, without anythin' too terrible happenin'."

She bit her bottom lip to repress a grin.

"It was really sunny that day, but it was the day I think it all sank in, and I knew I would be there for him completely. It was...like it was burned into my skin...hell, into my soul even. It just became real for me, and when I saw the blood and thought something had happened to him...that's when it all hit me."

"Daryl..."

"So...Greyson," he concluded, "seems right to me. I know it's your kid and all. I mean, it's my kid too, but he has your blood and DNA and you have more of a say on his name and all of that—"

"Daryl," she cut him off and set a hand on his arm. "You had me at I actually got a name for him."

"Wait, really? You like it?"

"Like it? Daryl, I think it suits him better than any I could have come up with."

He chewed his bottom lip and smiled. "Greyson Toby Dixon."

Carol set a hand on his thigh and moved closer to him. "Thank you, Daryl."

He looked at her. "For what?"

"I can't begin to explain in words how thankful I am to have had you by my side through all of this." She felt her heart racing in her chest at how much she loved him and all he'd done for her. "I love you more than I think I've ever loved anybody, and I can't believe I can to raise this baby with you. I get to have you with me for the rest of my life, and...it makes me...so happy. Happy isn't even the word for it, but I can't think of another word right—"

He cupped her cheeks and kissed her softly once the tears appeared. He knew they weren't from sorrow, but his heart still hurt to see tears there. He knew what she was going to say, because he felt the exact same way. To wake up every morning with her in his arms, to raise this baby together and argue over every little thing they disagreed on. To teach him all the things Merle taught Daryl and to watch Carol teach him all the things Hershel taught her. Spending every day with her by his side and their son...right there beside them too was almost too much. Life had been so cruel to him, but now...despite the anger and the horror that still found its way to them, it was becoming very sweet. He was rich in all the ways anyone could be grateful to rich in and then some. If he could have just...done it all sooner, realized his feelings sooner and not have wasted time. Maybe then it would be their son by his blood.

"I love you," Carol whispered when his lips left his, her face still close enough that her nose was against his. It was all she could think to say, because those words she seldom heard in her life and it was even rarer for him to have heard them. "I love you."

He wiped a tear away and kissed her once more. He didn't know how to say it. I love you more than life itself. I love you more than the air I breathe. I love you so much that it physically hurts me, even when I'm thrilled out of my goddamn mind. It still hurts. There's not enough bliss, so somehow pain thinks it can cover and joins right in apparently. He didn't know. He didn't care. He just loved. Fuck. He loved harder than he thought he could.

Carol's moan dispersed his thoughts, and everything that he'd been trying to ignore came screaming at him. To say it'd been a long time since he'd gotten...any was a massive understatement. He didn't date, and he was awkward as fuck, so he didn't seek women out. And then the world ended. But now here he was alone with the woman he loved, and...everything overeager and...alarmingly ready.

He didn't want to put Carol in an awkward position, so he started to back off when her hand caressed him through his jeans. He shuddered and groaned almost pained by the contact, and he was pretty sure all it'd take was a few more of those and he'd be done. Fuck.

"Don't stop," she murmured by his ear when he ducked his head, trying to calm down enough to actually go somewhere with this. "Just don't."

"Carol—" he couldn't finished his sentence and just closed his eyes tightly. He wanted this, but he had no idea how to handle this. Figured.

"Let's go upstairs." She set a hand on his cheek, stroking away the tension settling onto his face from the force he was using to keep his eyes closed. "Come on."

She led him upstairs to their bedroom, he had somewhat regained control of himself, and she stood in front of him in a dimly lit room. She didn't say anything, didn't laugh at him for being so insecure and shutting down on top of her for fuck's sake.

He opened his mouth to apologize, but she shook her head. He tried once more, but she kissed him. It wasn't like their kisses downstairs; it was gentle and quick. He watched as she gathered the hem of his shirt in her hands and lifted it up. He aided her and let it fall to the floor beside him. She drank in the exposed skin, the tattoos and the scars, and he wanted to cover himself out of habit, but at her hand on his breast, he was...frozen.

Her lips met his chest first, soft and warm, and her hands moved to his sides. She was very gentle, very thorough, and the blood in his body while still rushing and screaming seemed to calm. His heart was pounding, and she continued to trail kisses along his torso up, moving to his neck and jaw then to his lips once more. It was a deeper kiss, her tongue slipping into his mouth, and he couldn't stand still anymore.

He wrapped his arms around her, she moved his arms immediately, and he was about to just let go when she moved his hands underneath her top. Together they removed it, and it dawned on him that this was the first time he was seeing her body. She had seen him before, but he'd never seen hers. Well, the upper half anyway, and he had to...see it and touch it. Touch her.

His fingers around the stretch marks from Sophia, and he smiled to the left of his mouth. He stroked her belly once then moved onto the small scars Ed had given her and the not so small scars. It dried out his throat, but he didn't let it stop him. He didn't want to the past to stop them; it already had so many times before, but it wouldn't tonight.

His hands came to her breasts, and all of his lovey lovey thoughts went out the window. He had noticed they had swelled months ago, but now he could... God, he couldn't swallow for shit, right now.

Carol chuckled at his expression. "They're breasts, Daryl."

"I know." He sounded whiny.

"Then...touch them," she suggested, unfastening the clasp of her bra and letting it fall to the floor with slight assistance.

He gulped and just kinda grabbed them like melons at the grocery store. It caught her off guard, and he wasn't sure what to do...with them now. He didn't know if they were tender or what, but they were incredibly soft, firm, too. He stroked them like he would her belly, a slow smile crossed her lips, and his thumb found her hardening nipples. He stumbled a moment then Carol's hand cupped his, her thumb moving over his, and she showed him what to do, what she liked, and honestly it was probably the sexiest thing he'd ever seen.

He continued the motions on her other breast, she was panting and moaning, and her nails were digging into his wrist hard enough to leave marks. And he knew there so much more they had to learn about each other's bodies, all the scars and the pleasure spots, but he couldn't take it any longer. To be so close to her and to have her moaning and kissing him was about to make him lose his mind. He wanted her to the point where breathing seem unfair, because he wasn't kissing her. Removing her clothes was a task, because he was pulling cloth off her body, not stroking it and bringing her body closer to his. He felt impatient, but at this point so was she.

He wasn't sure who had guided who to the bed, but he didn't have to think about who was going to be on top. Carol had made that decision herself, and he couldn't even think to protest against it. Once she was on top and he was inside of her, the entire world just...didn't exist. He didn't exist. All there was was her and the feel of her, and he dug his nails into her thighs and burned his lungs out calling her name, because Christ. Jesus H. Christ.

That was another thing he said, like he was a fucking pastor at a church. He'd never said God so much, and he meant it like he was thanking God for putting this woman on this earth at the same time as him. He didn't even believe in God, but there he was, grunting out his name and her name and trying to figure out if he even had a body anymore. Hell, he just felt like one being with her, and it felt like home. It felt safe. It felt...incredible and out of this world, and he had never come so hard before in his entire life. His hand was put to shame.

He had lost all feeling in his body afterwards, Carol just sort of silently observed him, and he wondered if he had bones for a long time. He would curl his fingers, but that was about all.

"You okay there, Daryl?" She propped her head on her hand.

He suddenly went very red and wanted to curl under the bed. How long had he been acting like this exactly? Fuck!

"Don't be embarrassed." She wrapped her arm around his shoulders and lied beside him. "Just checking in." She rested her head on his chest, not keeping him there, just being close to him.

"I'm sorry," was all he could think to say.

"Sorry for what?" she peered nervously at him.

"I'm not sure."

She giggled. "Then why are you sorry?"

"Just... thinkin' back, I'm not...sure it was anythin' good for you."

She traced his collarbone. "I was close to you in this entirely new way, and that was...amazing for me."

So I sucked pretty much, he thought to himself. "Oh."

"No, not "oh". It's definitely a stretched out "oh"." She smiled at him. "Then of course there's your name. Then another oh."

He reddened, and he wasn't sure why. He wasn't sure of anything other than she fucked him stupid. Very stupid. He lost about fifty IQ points.

"And besides I can take care of myself until next time." She traced his tattoo and felt his heart begin to race underneath.

"Next time?" He rolled his head to the side to look at her. Take care of herself?

"We're a couple. There'll be a lot more next times."

"...can there be one...now?"

She chuckled and kissed him. "Definitely."

He rolled her underneath him and had to pause at the bump. "Maybe you should..."

"Probably." She chuckled against and pulled him back to her, sealing his mouth with hers.

– – –

Daryl had gotten shit all day for the grin he wore. Abe was the one who recognized it for what it was—great sex—and everyone just joined in. He worked alone his entire shift because of it, but Rick came to help him out. Rick and his comments and jokes, and Daryl threw a massive chuck of mug at him. Rick was pissed but came back with more jabs, and they ended up wrestling in the mud like two idiot teenagers, and Abe just let them.

Michonne came to get Rick to meet with Maggie and was both annoyed and amused. She knew what happened between the Dixons, and she knew her man, so it wasn't challenging to put together, but this was just sad. She had to give Daryl a boost and let it slip Rick hadn't gotten any in a few weeks now, and Rick looked ready to bury himself in the mud. Abe busted out laughing and turned the hose on them. It was still cold as shit with fucking icy ass water blasting on them, and Daryl regretted even getting out of bed as he stood there, dripping wet with mud coating his boots. Rick seemed to share that thought as they slunk off towards home to shower and get changed.

Michonne went on ahead without Rick to meet Maggie, and she spotted Carol at the graves. She didn't want to interrupt, but she didn't approve of a pregnant woman sitting on the cold ground. She argued with herself before coming to a decision.

Carol was at Tobin's grave with the latest sonogram and news from Neva. She replaced the flowers at his grave and tucked the photo underneath with their son's name typed out onto it. "Thank you, Tobin." It was a soft whisper, filled with friendly affection and regret.

"Hey." Michonne stood beside her. "You shouldn't be on the ground. Also I'm positive from memory you can't get up right now."

"Nope." She smiled. "Care to give me a hand?"

She helped her onto her feet and dusted her off. "What are you doing?"

"Paying a visit to Tobin. I... his flowers needed changed." She shrugged. "And...um, I just needed to."

"You don't have to explain anything."

Her eyes moved over Michonne's shoulder. "But they do."

She turned to find Rick and Daryl sloshing in their shoes on the way home, and she snickered. "Sure you wanna know?"

"You know?"

"I was there."

"Then I definitely want to know." She giggled at her soggy soulmate and drenched friend.

"C'mon, I'll tell you on the way to the meeting." She looped her arm through Carol's, and they headed to Maggie's, laughing over their immature and adorable men. The grave of Tobin left with fresh flowers and a sonogram of baby boy Greyson at 30 plus weeks.


	40. The Night When We Were All Younger

Carol woke up in Daryl's arms the following morning, the sunlight blinding her as they hadn't shut the curtains the previous night, and she inhaled sharply, moaning. Groggy. She didn't know what time it was, expect time to pee—as always—and do some other things. She had some plans of her own. Maggie had inspired her. She wanted to...plan for the future. The far off future, one where her son was a man and he was leading people and directing his life.

She slipped out from his arms, turning back as she pulled his shirt down over her to clothe herself, and he snugged up closer to her side of the bed. He grabbed a hold of her pillow in his sleep and buried his face in the smell there. She chuckled and set a hand on the top of his head gently as to not wake him, then she headed to the bathroom for a shower. She needed a long, hot shower. Perhaps the steam would be the only thing clogging her today.

Daryl opened his eyes when the sound of running water came, and he noted both Carol and his nightshirt were gone. He'd have to walk around naked. Again. He knew she liked how big his clothes were on her, but he needed something to wear in the mornings. He couldn't cover himself with the sheet, because they didn't have one, and the blanket was too heavy, and the last thing he needed was Rick to see his bare ass. Who the hell visits someone at the crack of dawn? Jesus.

"There's another shirt on the other side," came Carol's voice from the bathroom.

"The other...side?" He sat up and spotted his second nightshirt. "I wasn't—"

"You were." She appeared in the doorway. "And I'm sorry. I just...love the space and the smell. They smell like you."

"I like your smell. Don't see me wearin' floral sweaters."

She laughed. "There's an image."

He glared. "Stop."

"You said it." She held her hands up in innocence. "If you'll excuse me, I have to shower and get some personal things done today."

"What personal things?" He pulled his shirt on, stepping over discarded panties and jeans to meet her by the door.

"Cleaning this pigsty," she opted. "Adding a few more touches to the baby blanket. I also have to see Sasha for...something. I'm not sure what, but I'll find out when I get there."

He nodded. "I got construction then the wall tonight."

"Guess I won't see you tonight then." She set her head on the frame. "Bummer."

He ducked his head and smiled. "Think we made up for lost time enough last night."

"Maybe." She crossed her arms. "But is there really enough making up?"

He stepped towards her and kissed her lightly. "As long as I have you, the rest don't matter," he murmured, stroking her cheek.

She set her hand over his. "I love you, Daryl."

"I love you, Carol." He studied her eyes and gripped her pinkie with his thumb. "Could I ask you somethin'?"

"I think you already did."

He shook his head. "No, seriously. No jokes." He lowered his hand, taking hers to hold it firmly.

"Ask." She locked her eyes in his. "Ask me."

He swallowed with no difficulty, didn't avoid eye contact, and he didn't fidget. He stood there before her, eyes in hers, back straight, posture...calm. And his lips parted to ask a question he never thought he'd have to ask in his entire life. Well, not have to, but get to. There were a lot of things he never thought he'd get to do, but...here they were before him now.

"Will you marry me?"

She didn't even blink. "I'm saying yes, but...why ask? I mean, we've pretty much been a married couple since the prison, you know. Just without all the...physical aspect."

"I...wanna be with you," he remarked, "in every single way that I can in this life. I want you to...make somethin' good with the Dixon name. I want you to be my wife, not just with me. I... I wanna be your husband and raise our son...like a married couple."

"A bit conventional." She set her free hand on his chest and pushed with little effort—he didn't budge. She smiled and curled her fingers underneath her palm so that her knuckles were on his chest, a fist over his heart, and she met his eyes. "Okay, let's...get married."

He smiled at her, widely, radiantly, and he kissed her, taking her breath away. She couldn't even react to all of the emotion in that kiss. She could only be consumed by them, and she couldn't help but be lost in it. In him. In her husband. In this amazing life she had now. There were things she wished had stayed, people she missed more than the safety and structure of the old world, but she...she had made a home for them in her soul. And her heart now...was content. It wasn't twisted in the dark wires of what happened in the grove, and while there were still shadows of that terrible day, she didn't feel the thorns. She just felt...him and his love and her son. Tobin's son. Daryl's son. Glenn's godson. Maggie's godson. The tip of a very large iceberg that made her entire world crack and crumble. Yet somehow all the pieces landed...in such a way that it was a beautiful mosaic. Everything happened for a reason... Perhaps Mika was right.

"I have to meet Sasha by noon," she murmured between kisses.

"She'll survive." He guided her back towards the bed.

"And the shower?" She pulled back. "We can't waste water. Hang on."

He pouted at her walking away, but soon all he could see was the opaque material of his shirt as she threw it at his head. He shook it off like a dog and found her before him once more, and he drank in her beauty. If he believed in Heaven and Hell and all that stuff, he'd pray this was his heaven. Her. All of her by his side through anything and everything the world threw at them forever.

– – –

"What's so important that you ditched your duty today?" Rick griped at Daryl, who had taken him off the wall. And Michonne off patrol. He wasn't happy with this at all, but Glenn had been walking by with Aaron, so they were covering the wall. Them and baby Eli, which he really didn't approve of, but it'd been a slow day, only a few walkers, and no people. He hoped it continued to be that way.

"I'm uh...well, I'm gettin' married." He just went for it. There was no point beating around the bush. He had done plenty of that and gotten nowhere. He wasn't going to do that anymore. "To Carol."

Rick blinked at him, head tilted to the side, and he rubbed his jaw. Meanwhile Michonne busted out into a huge smile and hugged him in congratulations, and Daryl was happy to welcome it. He had more news for them, but he'd let Rick digest this first.

"You okay?" Daryl didn't like how quiet he was being.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good." He dropped his hand to the butt of his gun and cocked a hip. "Just thinkin'...where we're gonna have this weddin'. Gabriel will do the service, we can have some of the kids collect flowers, and there's bound to be somethin' nice we can all wear."

Daryl smiled faintly. "Yeah, bound to be."

"So, who's gonna be your best man?" Michonne asked. "Or will it not be the formal?"

"I just want... We just want you guys there. Our family. It's not a big deal, and the whole town don't need to be there."

"And we'll be there." Rick nodded. "I'll have Carl try and round up some nicer clothes, and I'll talk to Gabriel."

"Mag and I will work on Carol's clothes and bouquet." Michonne crossed her arms. "Of course we have to wait for Glenn and Enid to return, but they'll be back either tonight or tomorrow evening."

"Aaron and Eric can plan the reception. He has a veggie patter thing he's been wanting us all the try."

Daryl listened to them go back and forth planning this wedding, and he was happy to have the support and the ideas. Carol was a litte scattered lately with the baby and other things, and he didn't know a thing about weddings and formal anything. He was lucky they had experience and knowledge in these areas. He was really lucky to just have them.

"I'll make a list when my shift is up." Michonne adjusted the gun on across her torso. "Until then I oughta get back to it." She nudged Rick on her way by and set a hand on Daryl's forearm as a departing congratulations and I'm proud of you. She really was. Proud and elated for him.

"Let's hope that baby stays put until this is all planned," Rick mused. "You won't have time for this once he's born."

"Yeah, I know, so the sooner the better. I hope...Glenn and Enid come back soon."

Rick motioned his head, asking without words if he wanted to walk with him, and Daryl fell into step beside him. "They'll be back by tomorrow. Glenn isn't thrilled to be away from Maggie, and Enid...wants to talk to Carl, so they won't dally."

He nodded. "What's this "best man" business?"

Rick smirked. "It's...like your best friend. He stands by you at the wedding, and does a lot of other stuff, but it doesn't...really work now. He's just...someone who's stood beside you through a lot of shit. Someone who you love and trust and want beside you on one of the most important days of your life."

"Know a couple people like that," Daryl muttered.

"Me, too." Rick glanced at him and chuckled. "Congratulations, man." He set a hand on his shoulder. "I'm real happy for you."

"Thanks, Rick."

– – –

The word had gotten around rapidly that Daryl and Carol were getting married. Maggie and Denise spent a few hours in the clinic working on Carol's outfit. Denise had no luck finding something that would fit Carol and the baby, and Maggie had a few ideas on her veil. It was nice to be doing something normal and beautiful. It really washed away the cold winter they'd had.

"That looks nice." Denise smiled at Maggie's work. "It'll look great on her."

"I think so, too." She tilted her head to the side and carefully weaved stems together. "My...sister taught me how to do this. She used to make them for Judith. The prison yard filled with flowers, and Beth would take her out there and enjoy the day. She'd make flower crowns for her and for me and for Judy."

"She sounds like she was a lovely person."

"She was." Maggie swallowed.

"Knock, knock." Eric stood in the doorway. "How's the wedding planning going?"

"That's Michonne's department. We're clothes." Maggie gestured to the clean jeans and dark blue shirt they had rounded up for Daryl. He was going to be the something blue as well as clean and classy. It was Michonne's idea.

"Well then we came to the right place." Eric moved aside and let Spencer enter the room. "I ran into him on my way over."

"Spencer?" Denise smiled a greeting. "What are you doing here?"

"I heard that you were having issues finding something for Carol to wear." He lowered his eyes to the item in his arms, and their eyes followed. It was a beautiful cream-colored dress. It was simple and elegant at the same time with an eyelet trim along the hem and lace along the short sleeves. "It was my mom's."

"It's...lovely." Maggie stood up and looked it over. "I don't think it'll fit, though, with the bump."

"It's a maturnity dress," he added. "She wore it when she was pregnant with Aiden."

"Are you sure?" Denise studied his face and body language.

"I'm sure my mom wouldn't want it gathering dust in her closet, and...it's an important day for Carol and Daryl. I want to help make it special." He held it up by the hanger. "My mom wanted this. Weddings and births and the return of normalcy. I think she'd be happy to lend this dress to the bride."

"Thank you." Maggie accepted it and hung it by a nail in the wall. "It really means a lot."

He nodded. "Then I'm glad." He turned and left at that point.

Eric shook his head. "That boy, I swear." He smiled and chuckled. "Do you need any help?"

"I'm sure we do." Denise looked over her portion of Michonne's list. "Do you know how to remove a dress from a teddy bear? Without ripping it?"

Eric blinked. "For...what exactly?"

"Judith," she quickly answered. "She's the flower girl, and this dress is just perfect for her."

"I'm on it then."

"Well, that's three things down." Maggie sat down on her stool and looked over her work. "What will we do about rings, though?"

"Rob a Kay Jewelers?" Denise mused.

Maggie chuckled. "Let me know where you find one."

"How about some music?" Eric changed the subject since he couldn't think of a solution to their problem.

"CD player's over there." Denise pointed to it. "Tara has some CDs stacked around it."

"Okay." Eric looked at the selection and nearly cringed outwardly. He ran a finger over the cases and found one that might not be total torture. He popped it in and let the somewhat mellow tunes fill the clinic.

"I would have gone with the Kelly Clarkson CD," Maggie mused. "It has a...one good song at least."

"Trust me, it was this or Cotten Eye Joe."

"What CD has Cotton Eye Joe on it?" Denise looked them over. So she could burn it.

"None. I'd sing it to torture you for your shitty music selection." He smiled sweetly.

"The world's ended. It's not like I can hit up a music store." She turned back to the list. "Or hire a wedding planner, which is what I'd love to do. I don't know the first thing about weddings. I've never even been to one."

"That doesn't matter." Maggie crossed her legs. "What matters is making this day special for Daryl and Carol. It's something neither of them have experienced, and for them to be taking this step together as two people who love each other is wonderful. They deserve the best we can offer."

Eric nodded. "It will be. With all of us who care so much about them working on this, it can't be anything else."

––

Michonne looked over at Carl and Judith who slept together at the foot of the bed, his arm still wrapped around her, and her thumb in her mouth. She gently stroked Carl's hair and brushed a thumb tenderly over Judith's cheek. Her heart swelled with affection for them, and she returned to her portion of the list. She had crossed most of it off, but there was still the issue of rings.

They had decided to have the reception here, and they had brought out wide table that filled the living room as she worked on her list. Aaron and she had thrown a tablecloth over it and decorated it with candles and their best plates and a few plants to liven it up some—Aaron's idea. It was pretty cute. She hoped Carol and Daryl liked it. All of it, actually, would be a surprise, and they hoped it wouldn't be too overdone, but this was Carol and Daryl, they had to make it special and memorable. It was...huge. She hoped they made this day exactly what they deserve.

"Hey." Rick stood in the doorway, smiling in on the loves of his life. "You sleepin' in here tonight?"

"Where?" She softly jested.

He slipped into the room. "You still workin' on that? It's one in the mornin'."

"I'm about done." She set the list on the nightstand and stood up carefully, moving to stand in front of him. "Tomorrow will be the big day, and we don't have a lot of time."

"We don't even know if Glenn and Enid will be back by then."

"They're never late." She met his eyes. "Have you spoken to Daryl?"

"Yeah. He wants to keep it small still, and I think we're doin' that. It...looks almost normal."

"It is normal." She wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "This is life now, and this is what a wedding looks like now. Two people celebrating their love in front of family. It doesn't get more normal than that."

He grasped her hips and smiled. "You're absolutely right."

She kissed him gently. "When these kids get back to their own rooms and Daryl and Carol owe us, we are making use of these locking doors."

He smirked. "I like the sound of that."

"I thought you would."

A boot on the step interrupted their kiss, Michonne lowered her arms to grip Rick's forearms, and Abraham stood at the top of the stairs. Rick was a little confused why he was here this late, but he knew he would explain, and Michonne was curious what he was carrying in the little black box.

"Sorry to interrupt, but I heard about the weddin' from Sasha."

"It's made its way around town," Rick commented.

"Yeah, and I also heard about tryin' to find rings." He held the box out. "Here."

"What's this?" Michonne accepted the box and opened it, seeing two silver bands resting inside. "How did you...?"

"I made them." He shrugged casually. "Wasn't too hard, just made 'em from nuts."

Rick chuckled. "Guess our number one problem just got solved."

"Thank you, Abraham." Michonne smiled at him. "A ring doesn't make a marriage, but...this is still important, so thank you."

"Anytime." He returned her smile. "I...thought after everythin' Carol did for us back at that cannibal hell and when the wolves attacked that I had to pay her back somehow."

"Looks like all we need now are Glenn and Enid to return." Michonne closed the box and held it close.

"And they're never late," Rick murmured.

– – –

Carol woke the next morning to the sound of people in her house, and she moaned softly, wanting them to be quiet so she could get a few more hours of sleep. She reached over to rouse Daryl to ask if he could make them quiet down, but her hand hit only blanket. She opened her eyes and looked over to find his side of the bed empty.

"Daryl?" She pushed herself up, her lips drawing a line. "Daryl?"

"The groom can't see the bride before the wedding," Glenn replied, entering with a tray of food. "It's common knowledge."

"You're back." She beamed at him. "And...what?"

"Yeah, my head's still spinning on that fact, too." He set the tray down and sat on the bed. "I'm proud of you both, and I couldn't be happier. It's the best news I've gotten since I left Alexandria."

"Wow, I didn't know I'd be getting married the very next day."

"There's no time to waste," Glenn remarked. "We don't want that baby born at the ceremony."

"That's true." She picked up the fork and collected some strawberries, chowing down on them and the oatmeal.

"I'll let you eat then the girls are gonna come and help you get ready."

"Thank you, Glenn."

"Don't mention it. It's all in an hour's work for a godfather." He smirked and ducked out, heading out of the house afterward to meet Daryl at his house. He had woken him up super early to come and sleep a few more hours at his place. He was currently out cold on his sofa, and Enid was trying to wake him up. He had left when she resorted to poking his face, and he returned to find him upright and rubbing his head, yawning wide.

"Got him up." Enid set his breakfast down in front of him.

"She tried to kill me," Daryl corrected.

"All I did was say Carol was going into labor." She shrugged a shoulder. "You're the one who nearly killed yourself trying to climb over the coffee table and out the door."

He grumbled and helped himself to the foo she'd placed in front of him.

"Man, try and help a guy out and he's just bitter." She shook her head. "I'm going over to Carol's. Maybe the women there are nicer."

"Okay. And don't forget to get Gabriel."

"Will do." She jogged out of the house.

"You look like shit." Daryl observed, drinking water to swallow the thick oats. "Long night?"

"Something like that." Glenn rubbed the back of his neck. "It's complicated, but not important. It's your wedding day, and that is important. We have your clothes upstairs, so when you're done eating, just shower and change. We'll go to the church afterward."

"We're doin' this in the church?" Daryl frowned.

"Most weddings happen in a church."

"I ain't too religious, and neither is Carol."

"It's not about religion. It's about a place where we can sit and watch two people we love get married, and the girls already decorated it, so tough."

"Gee, so happy this is my day."

"Technically the wedding is the bride's day, but that's just what my mom always told me." He stuffed his hands into his pockets. "I'm gonna get changed now. Let me know if you need anything."

Daryl ran a hand through his hair and exhaled slowly, sitting upright and rubbing his hands on his thighs, a smile cross his lips, and he ducked his head, chuckling soundlessly. It was his wedding day. He never in his entire life thought those words would play in his head or be spoken aloud. He never even thought of the word wedding without rolling his eyes and scoffing, but now...it made him feel...ecstatic. He was thrilled to hear and think those words. It made his skin hum. It was his wedding day, and he was marrying Carol. He was marrying Carol, and they were going to have a baby, a little boy. They were already a family, but it felt official. They were telling this whole damn world that tried to break them over and over again that they were together and happy and about to become parents. This had to be the best day of his life. The actual best—until he held his son in his arms, he was sure.

He washed his dishes and headed into the guest bedroom where his clothes were laid out. He popped into a shower, his entire body rushing itself to get to the church and marry his best friend. He nearly choked on soapy water he was rushing himself so much. He had to slow it down, and he dried off, scrubbing his teeth and combing his hair. He even combed his goatee then threw on the clothes they'd given him. He slipped into his boots and padded down the stairs, nearly crashing into Maggie.

"Sorry."

She simply smiled at him. "You look handsome."

"Just clean," he muttered.

She reached out and adjusted his collar, patting his shoulder. "You look handsome."

"What're you doin' here?" He came off the steps.

"I forgot to grab somethin' for Carol is all." She slid by him and hurried up the steps.

"You ready?" Glenn came out of the kitchen, all prim and polished too. "You look good, Daryl. You look...really clean."

Daryl glared.

"Carol's gonna be impressed."

"Man, shut the hell up." He grumbled and folded his arms. "Let's just get goin'."

Glenn chuckled. "Shouldn't keep the bride waiting, after all. C'mon." He smacked his arm lightly and led him out of the house.

The church was filled already with their immediate family, Carl and Judith were at the end of the pews with a basket of flower petals, and Carl was holding her still. She was ready to just go, and Rick and Michonne were laughing at her eagerness. Sasha and Abraham were chilling on the bench with baby Eli as Aaron was taking some Polaroids, and Eric was at the alter in charge of the rings. Rosita was sitting by herself, but not for long as Tara and, of course, Denise joined her. Enid was trying to escape a conversation with Eugene who had been going for about a good twenty minutes. And Daryl stood beside Gabriel at the alter, messing with the buttons to his long sleeve.

Daryl looked up when he saw movement from the corner of his eye, Judith and Carl were tossing out flowers, and Maggie was finding her seat beside Glenn, but most importantly the woman behind Carl and Judith. Carol looked stunning. She wore this pretty dress that hugged her body and the baby bump just right, and she was glowing. Her smile, her eyes, her entire being was simply shining, and he'd never seen her so gorgeous. She had a colorful flower crown on, and she was...a goddess. And it brought a smile to the side of his mouth to see her boots peeking out from under the dress. It brought in some reality to the situation. She looked...out of this world beautiful, so he needed some reality to keep his feet on the ground.

Carol stood before Daryl now, Carl sitting with Judith in the front pews, and Carol took both of his hands. She was doing it to be sure this wasn't a dream, but it felt too good to be true. Her hands made contact with his, and she knew it was real. It was her life, and she was actually marrying Daryl Dixon at the end of the world. She couldn't stop smiling. He was right in front of her, and he looked so beautiful. He had cleaned up, and he still smelled like soap. She wanted nothing more than to curl into his arms and just bury her face in his chest and forget the rest of the world for a little while. She could do that when the day was over. When all the days were over.

Gabriel went over lines that he'd almost forgotten, passing over vows as the pair didn't want to do that, and they exchanged rings. Carol and Daryl both were stunned by the rings Abe had made, and he proudly grinned at their expressions. Aaron made sure to get a picture of both. It was...actually perfect.

"You're beautiful," Daryl told her when they were alone in the church, the others heading to Rick's.

"So are you." She wrapped her arms around his neck, adjusting to the feel of the cold metal on her ring finger. "I love you, Daryl Dixon, so much."

He smiled at her. "I love you, too, Carol Dixon."

She kissed him.

"Hey, there're hot food and drinks this way," Abe called to the duo.

Daryl had to remind himself that Abe had kindly made their rings on short notice. "Be right there."

"C'mon." Carol laced her fingers through his. "We'll have plenty of time for this after."

"All right, but if we get home, and you're tired—"

"Do you want to spend our first night as a married couple on the couch?" Carol arched a brow at her husband.

"I was just jokin'."

She laughed. "So quick to protest. Mmm, guess you do like the—"

"I'm still standin' right here," Abe reminded the newlyweds.

"Right." Carol pulled out a shameless smile, and Daryl blushed behind her. "Let's go."

The wedding feast was lovely and a very unique use of ingredients both grown in their garden and found outside. They passed around bowls of goodies and drinks. The room was filled with laughter and blissful vibes. It was the most fun Carol could remember having in recent memories. All of her family together and her husband. Her husband, a word she could think and say without cringing and feeling like a prisoner to it. For the first time she could say with utter joy that she had a husband. It was...amazing.

"Hey, you okay?" Daryl noticed the tears in Carol's eyes.

"I'm great." She beamed at him. "How could I not be?"

"Give us a kiss!" Maggie teased.

"Why don't you give that speech you've been penning there?" Michonne called out after.

"Not yet." Maggie covered it with her hand. "It's not done."

"I've got a speech." Rick stood up and cleared his throat, raising his glass of sparkling grape juice that had a kick. "I've had the honor of knowing Daryl for a good while now, and I can say honestly there is no one else right to stand by his side as his best friend, lover and soul mate. I've watched both of them grow into two amazing people who born survivors, and...I'm grateful to be able to call them my family. I wish you both all the happiness and patience in the world as you begin this journey together as husband and wife and parents. To the happy couple."

"Aww." A round of applause sounded, they all drank from their cups and shared a groan at the taste of the grape juice.

"Thanks, man." Daryl nodded at him.

"That was sweet, Rick." Carol smiled and laced her fingers through Daryl's.

"Hey, hey, hey." Maggie hopped up. "Just wait till you hear mine."

Rick sat down and smirked. "Go right ahead."

"Here's to Carol." Maggie raised her glass. "To the woman who has became an unexpected guardian angel to all of us, I am blessed to have you in my life. I am honored to be the godmother to your baby boy. If he has even a drop of your skills and heart, he will be a lucky little man. He will go far in this world and safeguard the future of this town and this family.

"As for the groom, I can't imagine a world where the two of you don't belong together. There is a bond between you that my husband and I share. It's beautiful and rare, and you didn't let it go to waste. You'll be...blessed at letting it flourish, and I hope you get to experience all of its joy and blessings before you inevitably are beaten to exhaustion at the birth of your son."

Glenn snorted. "You should've kept working on those napkins, babe."

"Shut up." She lightly smacked his shoulder and looked at the couple. "I just mean...what you have is rare, and I'm happy you two stopped beating around the bush and went for it. That doesn't sound romantic or meaningful."

"Thank you, Maggie." Carol tried not to laugh. "It was thoughtful."

"Yeah, it means a lot that you even said anythin'," Daryl added. "Thanks all of you, actually, for doin' this for us. You didn't have to, certainly not on such short notice, but you did. I can't...thank you enough."

"You can give me a foot massage for a couple weeks," Abe suggested.

"That's not repaying you, that's punishment," Rosita threw out.

That set the whole room off again in playful arguing, Carol couldn't stop laughing at faces Sasha was making, and Maggie nearly choked on her drink at Rosita's comments. It was certainly a lively reception, and it only seem to bring them all closer together. Like the blanket Carol had made for her baby, they were tightly woven together and secure. There could be no doubt that they were family, and there would be no doubt that her child would be fiercely loved by all of them. It warmed her soul to watch her family interact, and to be by her husband's side. It was a remarkable evening.

––

"I'm exhausted." Carol curled up in bed. "How long were we there for?"

"Couldn't tell you." He dropped beside her. "How're you feelin'?"

She inhaled. "Euphoric."

He chuckled. "Really? That good?"

"I'm not scared anymore," she confessed. "I'm ready to start this...adventure with you and our son without holding anything back. I feel...like all of my past is in the past now, and it won't hang over me while we're raising Greyson. It'll be just us and our family. I feel free."

He grinned. "Then I'm real euphoric, too."

"Oh, are you?"

"To be your husband? Damn euphoric."

She giggled. "I love you."

"I love you, too." He kissed her lightly and kissed her belly. "Welcome to my family, kid, don't follow in the name's footsteps. Make the name better, make it mean somethin' good."

Carol caught his chin and carefully lifted it so that their eyes met. "Daryl, you already did."

He smiled somewhat. "Doesn't mean he can't make the name even better."

"You don't give yourself enough credit."

"Neither do you." She pursed her lips. "Well, you don't."

"I guess we can work on that together."

"Reckon so."

"Is that all you have to say?"

"Tired as I am, yeah, it is." He pulled her against his chest and buried his face in her hair, the sweet scent of the flower crown she'd wore most of the day lingering there. He loved how soft her hairs felt against his face and the smell reminded him of meadows. It was a peaceful feeling, and he nearly lost himself to the exhaustion settling in his bones. "We can finish this in the mornin', right?"

She didn't say anything.

"Car—?" He was cut off by her soft snores, and he chuckled, not bothering to say anything more as he held his wife in his arms and drifted off.

– – –

Maggie and Glenn helped Michonne and Rick clean up the mess of their dinner, Enid and Carl carried dishes to the kitchen where Rosita was washing them, and Spencer had stopped by for leftovers, so they handed him a broom to work for them. Well, that and they really needed another hand.

Enid set the plates in the soapy water and turned to Carl. "Any other random weddings I should know about?"

"No, I think that's the only one for now." He smirked and leaned against the counter. "We haven't had the chance to talk since you came back."

"Kinda got bum rushed into the ceremony." She crossed her arms. "And I do still want to talk, but not here. It's a little awkward."

"We can finish with these dishes and go out to the stables, check on the horse."

"Okay." She smiled and headed back to the living room to collect the last of the dishes.

Maggie folded the tablecloth with Glenn's help, and she set it on the couch, seeing the look Enid and Carl shared. She minded the chairs and ended up by Enid. "Hey."

"Hey." Enid set the silverware into the last cup and paused to look at Maggie. "What's going on?"

"Nothing."

"Lair." She faced her now. "Is it your illness? Is it worse?"

"I'm not sick. I am fine. It's about you, actually. You and Carl."

"Oh." She shifted. "You don't have to do this."

"I'm not doin' anythin', I just want you to know that...you should be careful."

"Maggie—"

"I'm not sayin' you two will do anything. I'm just sayin' relationships are tough, especially now, okay? Don't...don't try and be a grown up, because you think you might not feel the same way as you do for Carl for anyone else. You never know who's out there."

"I appreciate the warning, but I have dated before, and I know how to handle myself. I just want to talk to him. That's all we're going to do. Besides he has the wall in the morning, so it's gonna be a quick chat."

"Okay." She set a hand on her cheek. "I'll see you in the mornin' then."

Enid embraced her. "Yeah." She lingered for a moment more then headed to the kitchen with the last of the dishes.

"I miss something?" Glenn had just returned from clearing the last of the chairs with Rick.

"No." She pointed to the potted plants. "Wanna help me take these back to Aaron and Eric's?"

"Nah, let's just keep 'em. We could use some more green life in the house." He picked them up. "Besides if they miss them, they can come get them."

She chuckled and picked up the last one. "Let's say good night. Spencer and Rick have the rest covered."

They said good night to their family then headed out, Maggie spotted Enid and Carl racing to the stables, and Glenn suddenly remembered it was about time for Luck's walk. He set the plants in the windows and grabbed the bag of homemade treats, instantly getting the puppy's attention. He chuckled as Lucky jumped up at him.

"Hold on. We still have to go on our walk and make sure you don't have any business."

Maggie wanted to smile at the scene before her, but the lump in her throat choked her. Her entire body ran dry and limp, and she felt fragile. She felt like a child who feared the dentist, and like a child, she had to face her fear. So she hugged her arms and entered the kitchen. "Glenn."

His smile instantly faded at the grim expression on his wife's face. He set the treats down and told Lucky to sit, and he approached her. "What's wrong?"

"...we need to go to Hilltop."

"What for?" He studied her.

"You know what for." She lowered her arms. "I think I might be pregnant again, and if I am then I need to know for sure. I need to take steps to be sure that we don't lose our baby again."

"Maggie..."

"I'm not...makin' it up. I know my body, and I know how much time has passed since I had my period. I'm sure it's not coming, so I need to get to Hilltop. I need you to be with me when I do. Please, Glenn."

"Maggie." He tenderly reached out and took her hand. "You don't have to ask. Of course I'll be there. You're my wife, and I'll be there."

She buried her face in his shoulder to hide the tears in her eyes. "I'm scared," she admitted.

"Me, too." He held her closer. "But whatever happens...we'll get through it together."

"I can't lose our baby again."

He inhaled. "I can't promise we won't, but I can promise that we will do everything in our power to keep our next baby healthy and safe. We'll be smarter about this. We'll be better."

She nodded. "Okay."

"I love you, Maggie." He stroked her hair and squeezed his eyes shut.

"I love you, Glenn." She smiled briefly into his shoulder and shuddered.

"We'll get through this." He released her and grasped her hands. "We'll go first thing in the morning."

"The sooner we know," Maggie agreed.

"Yeah." He rubbed his thumb into her hand. "I...want Enid there with us. Is that all right with you?"

She smiled. "Very all right." She stepped back. "I'm gonna go to bed."

"Yeah, I'm pretty bushed myself."

They went upstairs and got ready for bed, lying down under the thick blankets. Maggie stared at the ceiling in darkness and rolled over to look at Glenn's profile in the dark. She reached out and set a hand on his chest, almost a second later his hand covered hers and his thumb brushed over her fingers. She smiled and curled closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder. She sighed softly and closed her eyes. She had so many concerns about tomorrow, but she didn't know how to tell him any of them. She knew he would have plenty of his own, but they were both too tired to talk about them. They would discuss them tomorrow on the way to Hilltop with Enid. They were a family, and this was a huge step for them as a family. And it would be nice to have a new voice...and a new member to their family.

– – –

Enid set the brush down and patted the horse's side before dropping down in hay. She instantly felt it poke at through her jeans and blouse. She pulled her legs up and brushed it off, resting her hands behind her to keep her balance, pushing more strands away to keep it from stabbing her hands.

Carl fed the hungry mare a carrot and stroked its snout, looking down at Enid who smiled softly at him. He hushed the horse when it neighed and wanted more treats. "You've had enough." He moved to sit beside Enid. "Apple?"

Another neigh. It sounded almost offended. Enid busted out laughing, and Carl followed right after her. They laughed so deeply their sides ached, and the pair dropped back against the hay, rolling over to face each other as their laughter died down slowly. Enid wiped at her eyes as Carl's found her face, and he smiled gently at her, reaching out and catching her hand. He let their hands fall between them on the hay, intertwining their fingers.

"Hmm." Enid exhaled. "I'm gonna just jump right in, okay?"

"Okay."

"We've both been through a lot these last couple of months. All that happened with Pentaghast...is still pretty fresh in my mind, to be honest. I've worked through a lot of it with Maggie and Denise. I've gotten over the anger and the helplessness I felt, but...there are times when I'm right back there in the dark. Or with...with that asshole, and it's...hard to breathe." His grip tightened on her hand. "I'm trying to work through that last part, and...I will get through it, and while I'm doing that, I want...you by my side."

"Are you sure?" He studied her. "I don't want to send you backsliding."

"You won't."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because you're nothing like those people, and I'm not in the head space. You...keep me here. You keep me in this moment, and those memories can't reach me."

He smiled faintly.

"I know...it might get rough at times, but I'm not going to let that hold me back. I've missed out on too much, and I'm over that. I want to live whatever life I can with my family and with you. Wherever we end up, as friends or whatever, I want to see where this can go."

"I do, too." He drew in a breath of his own. "And maybe we can work through some of what happened with Pentaghast's people together."

"Are you sure you want to hear?"

"They're dead. They have no power over us now, which is why I want to talk about it. They don't get to take away from our lives now. We don't know how much time we'll have, but we shouldn't waste it...on what's already over. We'll work through this, and they'll be gone forever."

"Yeah." She nodded.

"I'm sorry that I couldn't—"

"Don't. You couldn't have done anything." She shook her head, hay embedding into some strands. "We got through it."

He chuckled. "That's nice, but I meant I'm sorry I couldn't have this conversation earlier. I feel like we wasted time...by avoiding each other."

"I believe we needed that time, though," Enid added.

"Probably."

She ran her tongue over her bottom lip. "I want to be able to talk about all of it at some point and not flinch. I want to find the strength within me to say all the terrible things that happened to me and around me and not have them influence me. I want to be better than that. I want to take the hard road and rise above. I don't care if that sounds stupid or silly to anybody. It's what I want more than anything, more than just surviving. I want to be alive and...really learn that means, even in this world."

"Mind if I join you on this journey?" he whispered.

"Who else is gonna carry the heavy stuff?" she mused.

He laughed. "That's harsh."

"Never said I'd be nice." She smirked.

"Yeah, try that again when you're not wearing a hay crown." He pulled a strand from her hair, and she sat up. "Pfft. It's pretty bad."

"Great." She gathered her hair over her shoulder and groaned. "Damn it."

He slid closer and helped her pull it out. "Sorry. We should have sat on the bench."

"I sat first. Pretty sure I suggested this, too." She met his eyes then leaned forward and closed her eyes when their foreheads met. "I'm glad to you have you in my life, Carl Grimes."

He cupped her cheek and brought her closing, kissing her gently. He didn't kiss her for long in case she had any lingering memories of what happened, and he nuzzled his forehead against hers, finding himself enjoying the sound of the night and her breathing. It was a sound he could listen to for the rest of his life.

Minutes passed, perhaps even hours had passed as well, and Enid drew away from him, hay still clinging to her hair, a shine to her eyes, and a gentle smile on her lips. She cupped his cheeks in both of her hands, stroking his defined cheekbones, and she placed a single kiss to his lips before standing up.

"I have to go, and so do you. You have the wall tomorrow." She crossed her arms. "And I have the noon shift."

"Yeah." He rose and dusted himself off. "Conflicting schedules."

"We have the night," she commented and faced him. "Walk me home? Please?"

"Yeah."

They said good night to the resident of the stable who was happily fed an apple on their way out, Carl laced his fingers through Enid's, and he walked her home. He went as far as the porch, leaving her with a tight hug and a whispered good night. She closed the door once he fell out of sight and climbed the stairs to have a shower to wash the itchiness of the stable off her body and the straw out of her hair.

A happy puppy met her in the shower, and she could only laugh at the precious face drenched in water yipping at her. She gave Luck a good scrub down with her and dried them both off. She tossed on cozy sweats and a tank top, curling up with the little fluffy puppy who licked her chin until they both fell asleep to the sounds of crickets.

– – –

Carol drank from her cup of tea while Daryl prepared simple pancakes made from fruit and two other ingredients. She was going to let him surprise her, so she didn't peek. She didn't want to say she'd seen Michonne make them before, so she happily drank her tea and let her husband pamper her. Her husband. God, a sentence had never sounded so perfect.

They had spent an entire week just...basking in the glow of marriage. They had no duties, no one coming to check on them. It was just the two of them peacefully alone together. They had made so many special memories, and Carol had never been so happy. She had never laughed so much. Or smiled so genially. She felt she would burst from all of this bliss. So much of this world had been cruel and hard and bloody, but now it was soft and loving and warm. She felt at home and at peace and content. She had...good, pure life growing inside of her, and she had the best man for her heart and body and soul. She felt like...the world was exactly where it needed to be, because this was exactly where she wanted to be. Needed to be, even. All was well.

Daryl flipped a pancake, praying he didn't burn them or ruin the sweet flavor of the fruits. He had gotten the idea from Michonne, and he didn't want to fuck it up. He rarely got to cook for Carol, and he wanted this to be special. Life resumed tomorrow, and they would be working and preparing for the baby. But for right now it was just the two of them at home, happily honeymooning in a land where time didn't seem to exist. It was some drug induced high shit, but hell, wasn't happiness a type of drug? It had to be too feel this damn good. If he knew how...good and right and whole love felt...maybe things for him would have turned out differently. Maybe he would have turned out differently.

But if there was even a chance it would change him and fuck up this bond and commitment he had with Carol, he wouldn't dare trade anything. He fucking loved where he was right now. He was making breakfast for his wife—his wife—after a night of soft laughter and utter completeness. He was whole for once in his entire life, and everything in this jacked up world seemed pretty damn good. This...had to be the type of joy that Hershel and Beth and Tyreese were talking about. He thought he understood, but he had no clue. This...this was actual heaven, and while part of him felt maybe he didn't deserve it, he was damned thrilled to have it. To have her by his side. His heart swelled at the acknowledgement that for the rest of his life there was nothing else in this world that he would need or want that wasn't right beside him, or soon to be in his arms.

"So...guess what." Carol set the cup down and reached over the sample the abandoned ingredients.

"What?" Daryl looked over at her, a smile ghosting his lips at her beautiful face, and he ran his eyes over her. "I love you."

She swallowed the apple slice and beamed. "I love you, too." She laughed. "But that's not what's up."

"Okay then what is?" He walked over to the counter and leaned over it. "Tell me."

"What's up is...I don't want to leave here tomorrow." She turned the slice over and pursed her lips. "I know it's not possible, but I just want to stay here...with you forever."

"I feel the same way."

"Then let's lock the door and grow an apple tree and never leave." She smirked, and he scrunched his nose. "No?"

"Kid's gotta come out eventually, and I ain't no doctor."

"True." She popped the other half of the apple slice into her mouth. "Oh, well."

"Could talk to Rick, maybe extend our...break."

"Honeymoon," she softly corrected, earning an eye roll from her husband. "And no, it's okay. I want to stay here with you for the rest of my life, and I will. I'll always be with you, but...I have other responsibilities. I can't let this haze of happiness consume me."

"Could let me do that instead."

She arched a brow. "Tempting, but I think we need actual food. I know I do."

"Oh, shit!" He spun around at the mention of food, suddenly remembering his pancakes and saw black smoke and a burnt shape on the skillet. "Fuck, man." He set it in the sink and tried to scrape it off, but it was pretty much stuck to the damn skillet. "Damn it."

Carol tried not to laugh at him as she reached for another piece of apple. "So...no apple pancakes?"

"Unless you want blackened apple pancakes," he groused.

"Hey, it's okay. We can have oatmeal."

"Didn't want oatmeal. I wanted to make you somethin' good, somethin'...not oatmeal." He slumped against the counter and folded his arms. "I should've paid better attention to the pan."

"It's all right. I've been filling up on the leftovers."

"What, you knew I'd fail?" He peeked at her.

"No, I'm just pregnant, and our son decided apples sounded amazing." She bit into a juicy slice.

He smiled a little. "Guess I can make 'em another time." He pushed off the counter. "You still hungry?"

"No." She finished off the piece. "You?"

"I had some before I woke you up. I didn't want to be hungry while I cooked for you."

"Smart." She smiled. "Okay, what's on the agenda for today then, husband?"

He chuckled. "I'm not too sure. We could try goin' out."

"Oh, right." She sucked air in through her teeth. "The outdoors. They exist."

"They do." He bobbed his head. "Wanna give it a try?"

"I just don't know." She pressed her lips together. "The great out doors," she weighted it on one hand while raising another, "or our bedroom..."

"Here, let me help you." He lifted up the bedroom hand, and she laughed. He laughed with her and kissed the side of her mouth before hitting her lips.

"We should get some fresh air." She traced her thumb along his bottom lip. "Then we can break down our mattress some more."

"Ten minutes."

"Five minutes."

"How about we just stand on the porch for a single minute?" Daryl suggested. "Or just open a window?"

She groaned at him, a wave of what he assumed was annoyed crossed her face.

"Fine, I can handle five minutes."

"No, it's not that." She blinked and exhaled. "I—I think...I'm having a contraction." Her lips thinned, her eyes narrowed, and she cried out. "Y—yeah, definitely a contraction."

Daryl stared wide-eyed at her.

"Greyson's coming, Daryl." She smiled. "Our son's coming."


	41. Murphy's Law

Maggie walked barefoot over the sun-warmed earth, her cardigan slipping off her shoulder at the warm air blowing over her. A sting of ice followed as spring was only just beginning, and she shivered somewhat before lowering herself down before the freshly placed gravestone. The glazed, firm wood stood tall, the etched flowers curling out from the baby's given last name: Rhee. Baby Rhee. Glenn had made the headstone when the snow melted from the strongest tree Daryl could find. He cut it down himself and made it all on his own for their unborn baby. The flowers were perfect, though, as he worked on the discarded wood the construction crew left behind for months. He didn't tell Maggie. He didn't tell anyone, only Daryl and Abe when he needed a tree and assistance lugging it back to the town. He surprised Maggie with it a few days after they returned from Hilltop with the news.

She was pregnant. 12 weeks today, and her risk of miscarrying had shrunken. She had no bouts of morning sickness yet, but she could feel her body changing—stretching to make room. She prayed every night for this life inside of her, Glenn and Enid by her side, and she felt...bittersweet in every sense of the word. It filled her lungs and surged through her blood. It danced along her eyelids and ran down her cheeks. It warmed her chest and froze her heart.

She held the sonogram of her baby in both hands, the tall grass hugging her legs, and her fingertips ran over the black and white image before returning to hold it. Firmly, as to keep it in her hands and not blown off by the wind.

"Hey, baby," the hushed, strained whisper came from her lips, "it's been too long since I've been to see you. Nearly...ten months, I think. Carol wasn't usin' the calendar I gave her, so she was a few weeks later than the date we set, so...yeah, just about ten months now..."

She drew in a deep breath and released it slowly. "I don't know what to make of what's happened. I don't think...I ever will, but I do know that I can't lose your sibling, too. And I know it seems cruel—" her voice broke. "—to ask you to protect your sibling in a way that I—I didn't protect you, but...please, please, I need you. I know...it's a lot, and it may be too much, but I can't do this alone."

She couldn't ask God. She wasn't sure what His plan was for her, if He even had one, and God had let her down too many times to count. But her family? Mom, Daddy, Annette, Beth, Shawn—as long as they had been by her side, they had never let her down when she truly needed them. They were always by her side, perhaps even now, and she needed them to be with her baby now. Both of them, and she would pray that they would guide this baby and help it grow, help her body be stronger, and so when the time came, she would give birth to a strong and healthy baby, and the only tears would be joyful ones. She couldn't bear any other outcome. Glenn couldn't. And honestly, they shouldn't have to face another harsh end. It felt selfish, but hadn't they endured enough? Hadn't they?

A heavy gust of wind tugged at the photo in her hands, she felt she should have shuddered, but it was almost like the wind...went around her. As though someone was standing beside her, blocking the wind. She looked over and lifted her hand for a moment to see if maybe something was there, but her hand passed through. She felt a little silly, especially when the next gust blew hair in her face, and she chuckled, rubbing tears from her eyes.

"Okay." She steadied herself and set the sonogram down on the grass with a rock to weigh it down. She set a hand on the ground, palm on the cool earth, fingers on the sonogram. "My babies... I love you both, and I can't to hold you both when the time comes. Rest and know peace until our eyes meet, my angels."

––

"Are you sure this isn't...counting your chickens before the hatch?" Tara leaned against the door frame, arms crossed.

"No." Glenn shook his head, turning to face her. "It's...hope."

"Hope?" Tara entered the makeshift nursery. "How do you mean?"

"We lost our last baby," Glenn replied. "I didn't do enough, and Maggie didn't stay safe. I know it wasn't that cut and dry, but it feels like we were to blame. We put ourselves in bad situations. That's a lot of negativity, so...I'm putting positive energy into us both now with this. Hope is the strongest positive I know."

Enid looked up from her spot on the floor, pausing in wrestling to put sheets on the little mattress. It was not easier than putting it on a large mattress. Fitted sheets were utter bitches. And this might not be the right size, but it was the end of the world. It wasn't like Babies R Us was around. "That's beautiful, Glenn."

He smiled softly, bitter sweetly. "It's just me hoping hope works. Me hoping that I can put my child down to sleep in this bed. Me hoping that I get to read them to sleep and kiss their forehead. Me hoping that I can be the kind of father my mom was to me and that Hershel was to Maggie. Me hoping that...good things can still come."

Tara returned his smile. "You will get good things. I know it."

"I mean, you guys got me, so you must be pretty lucky," Enid teased.

Glenn chuckled. "Yeah, I think...our luck really turned around when we got you."

Enid smiled widely at him and hopped up to hug him tightly. "I love you, too, Glenn."

He stroked her hair and chuckled once more. "I love you, Enid, and I'm glad you're here. You're going to be a great big sister."

"And I'm gonna kill it as aunt." Tara thrust her thumbs at herself and then joined in and made it a group hug.

"Glenn!" It was a loud and panicked scream from Maggie outside the window.

"Oh, God." He flew to the window and had Tara and Enid smack into each other, but they hastily recovered and met him by the window. "What happened?"

Down below was Maggie still barefoot, still half wearing that cardigan, wearing a massive excited smile. She laughed at this question and covered it with her fingertips, palms brushing her neck. She tripped backwards a few times and lowered her hands, trying to not burst from the happiness.

"He's comin'!" she shouted up. "He's—he's comin'!"

"He's coming?" Tara frowned. "Who the hell could be coming to make her so happy—Oh, my god! He's coming!"

"Baby Dixon!" Enid gasped and ran to the door. "Come on!"

"Godson inbound." Tara laughed and lightly hit Glenn's shoulder, following Enid out the door.

"He's coming..." The bittersweet edge to all of his smiles lately faded as a genuine grin crossed his lips, and he ran after Tara and Enid.

He caught up to them at the clinic, Rick and Michonne were already there, Denise and Neva were making the expectant mother comfortable, and Daryl was hanging out in the living room with Rick and Michonne. Maggie entered the house shortly after Glenn, and they asked Daryl what was going on. He filled them in on breakfast and her contractions. They were just getting her comfortable in on the gurney, and Neva insisted they do it alone. He didn't want to fight, so he just let them.

"All right. She's all covered up." Denise opened the door and showed them in. "And still in a good mood."

"Bet that changes as things move along." Michonne smiled at Carol as she took her hand. "Still a bitch?"

"Yeah, but at least I don't have a drunk breathing on me." She inhaled.

Rick cleared his throat. "Is there anythin' you want? Or need?"

"I'd love it if you could have this baby for me," she remarked. "Save me the next...ten hours of my life. Give or take. I'm rooting for take, but...who knows."

"Yeah, Rick, you heard the woman," Michonne teased. "Have this baby boy for her."

"If I could...I still probably wouldn't," he admitted. "I wasn't built for it like y'all, and I probably wouldn't do too good."

"At least you were honest. Doesn't mean much, but points for the honesty." Carol adjusted the sheet over her hip.

Maggie smiled. "How do you feel? That's a stupid question to ask, isn't it?" She shook her head.

"No, it's not, and I'm...nervous and excited. I can't tell which is...leading, but they're both prominent." She set a hand on her belly. "I just can't wait to hold him and tell him how much I love him."

"That makes three of us." Maggie moved beside Daryl to nudge him slightly in the ribs. "Right, Dad?"

He flushed. "Don't call me that."

"But it's true." Glenn tucked his hands into his hoodie pocket. "You're gonna be a dad."

"Or a papa," Enid chimed in. "Papa Dixon."

"Pops," Rick added.

Daryl shook his head. "He ain't callin' me Pops or Papa."

"So...Daddy?" Carol said it innocently enough, but for some reason, Daryl's face turned blood red.

Maggie bit her tongue to keep from laughing. "Um...do y'all...er, have an outfit for baby boy?"

"Or a name?" Enid sat down on the stool and slid it over to the bed. "Baby boy is cute and all, but I'd like to call him by his name one day."

"Yeah, we actually do have a name." Carol reached over and clasped Daryl's hand, lacing her fingers through his. "Want to tell them? It is your name."

He nodded and looked at the faces of his family who were brimming with anticipation. "Our son's name is Greyson."

"Greyson Toby Dixon," Carol added. "Toby for Tobin. He helped bring us this life, and we wanted to honor that. Honor him."

"That's awesome." Maggie grinned. "Really, Tobin would be happy to hear you say that."

"Aww." Enid stepped closer. "How sweet."

"It's a good name," Rick tossed in. "Bet he'll come out lookin' like a Greyson."

"Well, he better, because if he comes out looking like an Ed, we're all screwed," Glenn commented softly, trying not to let Carol hear, but she did anyway.

Carol couldn't help but bust out laughing at that, a tiny spark of fear welling up inside of her, doused out quickly by Daryl squeezing her hand, and she covered her mouth with her other hand, unable to control herself. If this baby came out looking like that nightmare, she would have to pass out or cry. It wasn't possible, not even Sophia looked like Ed, but if this world was cruel...

"I'm so sorry, Carol. I don't know where that came from." Glenn instantly made to apologize. "I didn't mean—"

"No, it's okay." She composed herself. "My genes are pretty strong. Sophia came out looking just like my baby photos. Her brother likely won't be any different."

"That's how my Andre was like," Michonne told her, smiling fondly at remembering that precious face. "All me."

Rick looked at her, perplexed at that statement.

Daryl's face contorted at the tightened grip on his hand, Carol's eyes squeezed shut, her jaw screwing shut, and Maggie escorted Glenn and Enid out of the room. Michonne rubbed her knee briefly before leaving herself with Rick, saying they'd be back, and Daryl was left with Neva. She came over and grasped Carol's other hand, reminding her to breathe.

"I forgot how much this hurts," Carol strained. "Funny. I never thought I would've."

"I'm sure you've experienced more pain since then." Neva helped her sit up and ran her hand down Carol's back to the base of her spine. "Here."

Carol's pain instantly eased up, and she panted. "W—what the hell?" She loosened her grip on her husband's hand, and Daryl was grateful. "What are you doing?"

Neva smiled at her. "Pressure points. There's not much we can do to about your pain, but I can do this now and then."

"I appreciate it. Really." She peeked at Daryl. "So does he."

"I'm doin' fine," he grumbled.

"Just...lookin' a bit blue there." Neva pointed to his brusing hand.

"Had worse." He shrugged.

Neva chuckled and removed her fingers, letting Carol lean back. "I'll get you some ice. Worse comes to worse, you can throw them at the wall."

Carol smirked. "Oh, do you mean it?"

"Yes, but only because I know you won't." She smirked back. "We'll just use it to reduce Daryl's hand swelling."

"Thanks for thinkin' about me, I guess."

"Yup." She walked out.

Carol peered at him. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay." He sat down in the stool Enid had brought over. "You?"

"Praying this is over soon." She had a feeling it wasn't going to be. Sophia was about 38 hours. She hoped this didn't last that long. It had been brutal to deliver her sweet angel. It was worth it, but honestly, 8 hours would have been just fine with her.

"How long did it go on for Sophia?"

"Thirty-eight hours."

His nose scrunched, and his eyes widened, brows shooting up. "Damn."

"Yes, damn. So many damns. It was awful. It was basically me and the nurse, and it...still sucked ass." She couldn't think of any other way to word it. "Recovery was not easy."

He was instantly reminded of the story she told her about that fuckwad asshole ex of hers, and his stomach twisted. "I'll be here for you," he assured her. "It won't be...like that. You'll get to rest."

She smiled and let go of his hand to cup his cheek. "I know it won't be like before, and I'll still—"

"No." He was gentle in interrupting her. "You made a baby and are gonna push it outta you. You aren't gonna do a lot right away. I'll take over. It's my job anyway. I'm a...dad, and I'm gonna be a good one. A good husband, too, so you'll rest, and me and the little dude will fair just fine on our own."

She stroked his cheek. "Okay, but unless your breasts can produce milk, I'll need to help out, too."

He smiled. "Just with that, though," he whispered. "Least for a month."

"Wow, a whole month? No extra baby stuff? No late night diaper changing?"

"Yeah, and I mean it." He caught her hand and kissed her palm, rubbing it into her skin with his thumb. "But once it's up, it's both of us, all right?"

"I love the sound of that—you and me. Us." Her eyes flashed, and she moistened her lips. "I wish I had...more time with you."

"What do you mean?"

"I...wish I could've realized how I felt sooner. I wish...I had back all those weeks and months and just had...been with you." She shook her head. "I know we have now, but...if I could have known how happy I could have been..."

"Hey, don't." He shook his head now. "You said it: everything happens for a reason. Who knows how we would have ended up if we were together before now. And who knows if Greyson would have even happened."

"I feel like I wasted—"

"Stop." He wouldn't let her finish. "Stop. It's the past, and we're not going to dwell there. Our son's gonna be here, and I don't even want to consider any path that might erase him. Okay? Greyson is...everythin' to me, so is his mom." He smiled at her. "Don't go there. I don't regret anythin'."

She returned his smile, tears in her eyes. "With you, I have no regrets either."

He leaned over and kissed her forehead.

––

Michonne looked over the nursery Daryl and Carol had set up for Greyson, and she adjusted the sheets, feeling the soft teddy bear resting on the covers. She smiled and plucked it from the crib, holding it in her arms. She remembered all the shopping she did for Andre. She wished it had amounted to more than it had, but...that was life. You were dealt things you had no choice but to lose to either help you grow; or...to remind you that life was unforgiving and often cold, but...light and happiness could still be found after such agony. She had made peace, but...she wished she didn't have to. She didn't know where he'd fit into her life today, but God, what she wouldn't give for even a glimpse of that life.

Rick knocked on the wall. "Hey."

"Hey." She turned to him. "Any news?"

Rick had given Denise a walkie talkie to contact them when the baby was crowning. They wanted to give Carol and Daryl space. It wasn't a walk in the park to give birth, and no one wanted to crowd them. There were still things they could be doing while they waited, after all, and that was what brought Michonne here. She was ensuring the nursery was ready for the newborn—of course, it was—and Rick was here to ask about Andre. Of course he was.

"No." His hand still hovered over the walkie on his belt. "Neva thinks it'll be a while before we hear anything."

"I wouldn't doubt it." She inhaled. "Go ahead and ask me, Rick. I appreciate the small talk, I do, but let's cut to the chase."

"You had a son?"

She nodded. "I did. For three years."

He swallowed. "How...?"

"It wasn't unlike how Lori died." She moistened her lips. "Only it wasn't an asshole playing with vengeance. It was an irresponsible father and family friend and...a horde."

"I'm sorry."

"Me, too." She set the teddy bear down in the crib. "I try not to think about Andre. He was a part of who I used to be and who I am now, but..."

"I get it."

"I don't think you can." She met his eyes. "There isn't anything that compares to losing a child. It might sound selfish, given all that you've lost, but...Carl and Judy? They are still strong and breathing. They have a chance to grow up, to pass on the lessons you taught them, to...continue all that your family has ever been. My son...is gone, and all of that is too. Same for his father. An idiot or not, I loved him, and that love...filled our son..."

He nodded slowly. "I...think I've said I understand situations that I really don't, because it's...become a habit. I had to do it as an officer of the law, and...I had to do it when we brought in new people, and I could relate to it. Most, if not all of it, but what you and Carol and Maggie and Glenn went through? I hope to never...be in that position. I'm sorry if I was insensitive."

"It's all right. I hope you never are in that position." She closed the space between them and grasped his hands. "And I have Judith and Carl now, and while it's not the same as my baby boy, it's just as good and just as full of love. It means the world to me—our little family." She smiled at him. "I wouldn't change what we have for the world."

"I love you."

She leaned up and kissed him. "I love you, too."

He freed his hands to wrap his arms around her and embrace her. Her arms curled around his shoulders, and he buried his face in her neck. "We might have shared blood and unending love," he whispered against her skin, "but we weren't a family again until you came into our lives. You made us...whole."

"You all made me whole, too." She smiled widely against his shirt. "Everything I fight for, everything that keeps me on my feet and coming back each time is you and our family. At my darkest hour, you three...bring me back from the brink and give me the strength to fight everything in my way."

It was his turn to give a massive grin, and he pulled her even closer. "Me, too."

She pulled back and grasped the walkie from his belt, moving over to the crib and contacting Denise. "Any news?"

Rick cocked his head to the side.

"Nope. Her contractions aren't getting any closer, and I'm positive it's going to be...a while. I've already prepared a nap schedule for me and Neva to be sure one of us is awake and alert with Carol at all times. Why? Is something going on? Should I bring my spear?"

"No. It's all good. I...have a spear of my own to work on." She tossed the walkie into the crib and approached Rick, who was smirking until she kissed it away, leading him out of the room and helping him out of his clothes.

– – –

"Sit still you." Eric caught Eli by the waist and sat her down in his lap, wrapping his arms around her torso to keep her still. Aaron stood beside him with his hands in his pockets, and Eric figured that was as good as he was going to get. At least for now.

"No news on Carol," Aaron told Eric.

"I know." He didn't look up. "That's not why we're here, though."

"It's not?" He looked at his boyfriend. "Then why are we here?"

"Tobin was a friend of ours. He didn't...whisper about us behind our backs like we're in junior high. He was straight with us. He treated us like people. He deserves that now." He looked at the marker for Tobin's grave. "It's an important moment. His son will be born."

"Not anytime soon." Aaron crouched down beside him nevertheless. "Greyson seems to be as slow moving as his pops."

Eric smirked. "It would appear so. She's been in it for four hours and no change."

Aaron chuckled. "Speaking of four hours, do you remember when Tobin locked himself in the shed? He went to put up some tools, and it was before we fixed the lock, and he trapped himself by accident?" He laughed. "He was so thankful to be let out be almost kissed Nick? I'm pretty sure he tried to kiss the sun itself."

"Stop it." He was chuckling himself, though. "He was dehydrated and out of it."

"Still hilarious." He hugged his arms. "Aiden would have paid good money for a camera that day. Hell, me too."

Eric inhaled. "We've lost a lot of people since that day."

"It comes with the territory of the new world." He met his eyes. "But it won't happen to us."

"How can you be sure? The odds for happiness and a long life just aren't in the cards for anybody in this world."

"I'm sure because what kind of world...lets a sweet angel live and finally find a good home where she can grow up to be morally good and strong just to snatch away that family?"

"This world."

"Well, fuck this world then. It won't happen. I won't let it happen." He grasped Eric's chin and tenderly pulled him closer, kissing his temple. "Not to us."

Eric smiled weakly. "If you say so."

"I do say so, and so does Eli. It's two against one, so just suck it up and go along with it."

"All right." His smile became a bit more bright, and he hugged Eli closer. "I want to do something for Greyson for Tobin, but I don't know what to do. I thought coming here would help me figure it out, but it just breaks my heart. This world...took away a father before he could even see his child. It's so brutal."

"He has another father to help raise him and guide him. One day, I'm sure Greyson will figure out who and what Tobin is to him. All we can do is be sure he knows who that man really was."

"He was a coward who left Francine to die," Eric remarked, "but acknowledge his cowardice and stepped down so that the construction crew would have a lead that was willing and able to keep them safe. He tried his best to overcome that weakness of his, and I'm damn sure he was able to do just that in the end."

"Not all heros wear capes," Aaron mused softly.

"I think it's important that Greyson know his natural father wasn't fearless and instictively strong and a leader."

"Why do you think that?"

"Because not everyone is born with the skills and heart to lead and be both emotionally and physically strong, but that's okay. You can learn how to be strong, how to not run away, and I believe that's an important lesson for kids to learn. Being afraid is okay. It's human, but it's not...all you are. You can change that part of yourself. You can always change for the better. It's a beautiful lesson. A forgiving one. I want Eli to learn that, too."

"Then we'll teach it to her." He set his hand on Eli's head, brushing soft hairs from her face, and she whipped her head around to look at who was touching her. A big smile broke out on her little face, and she reached for him. He grasped her hand and shook his head. She made a face but accepted his hand—into her mouth. She liked to chew on him. He was learning to deal with it. To a point.

"Dad and chew toy," Eric mused.

"I didn't sign on for this, but...I'm grateful it occurred."

"Good things can happen."

"Yeah, I wasn't waiting for this. Maybe for you, but not the slobber express over here."

Eric beamed. "Oh, you were waiting for me?"

"Do you have a problem with that?" He peeked at him.

"Never." He kissed him. "C'mon, let's go find some photos of Tobin to put in the baby's room."

"C'mere." He took Eli from Eric so he could stand up, and the toddler made another face. A very disapproving face. She had gotten comfortable and did not appreciate being moved. Or having her toy taken away. "You are so expressive for a two-year-old, you know that?"

"An old soul is among us." Eric snickered and adjusted Eli's loose shoe.

"Probably. If she's anything like her mother."

"What do you know about her mother?" Eric glanced at him.

"Neva talks about her to Morgan all the time. I...was passing by, and I heard some nice things. Josephine was a sweet girl, and if this kid is anything like her, we're gonna be real lucky."

"Luckier," Eric corrected. "We're pretty damn lucky now."

"That's true." He reached down and interlaced their fingers together. "So, I'll just watch Eli while you glue it all together?"

"Ha! Cute. She's going in the pen."

He made a face now and showed it to Eli, who giggled. "Now that just ain't fair."

"Neither is life, honey." Eric led the way back to their house where tons and tons of Polaroids laid waiting for them.

––

Rosita walked across the porch to where Spencer was sitting with a bottle, and she dropped down beside him, taking the bottle from between his legs and drinking from it. He didn't even object, just sent her a look, and she leaned back, happily accepting the bottle as her own now.

"How's life on this side of town?" She crossed her legs and drank deeply, enjoying the burning it sent down her throat.

"Fine." He reached for the bottle, but she didn't let him take it. "I was working on a gift for Carol."

"Oh, really?" She arched a brow at him. "Why? You don't even know her."

"Doesn't matter if I do or don't. It's...a nice thing to do."

"Hmm. Do tell."

"She carried a life inside of her for nine months, and that boy's going to be born into the world. If that doesn't deserve a gift, I don't know what does." He snatched the bottle back as politely as he could with her refusing to give it up. "And my mom really liked her, so I'm doing it for her."

"You're still trying to live as your mother, Norman?"

He bitterly smirk. "No."

"Good." She hopped up and headed into his house.

"Hey! Where are you going?" He went after her.

"To see this "gift"." She scanned the living room and spotted a basket on the table. "This it?"

"I'm not done with it. I took a break."

"A booze break." She smirked at him. "You haven't changed much."

"So I like to drink now and then. It's not a crime."

"No, it's not." She sat on the couch and looked over the items in the basket. "You really loved your mom, didn't you?"

"I loved my entire family a lot. We were close."

"That's sweet." She sucked in a breath and pulled out the bottle of lotion specially made for newborns and toddlers. "Hmm. Where did you get this?"

"Aiden brought back some useless junk now and then. It has some use now."

"Well, lotion's not totally useless for a dude." She placed it back inside the basket and leaned back on the couch.

Spencer set the bottle on the table. "Why are you here?"

"Well, I finished my shift on the wall, and I'm not due back until tomorrow night. And everyone else I hang with is either helping Carol through contractions, or they're out doing construction until the sun sets." She crossed her arms. "And I'm bored."

"I'm sorry. I don't feel like entertaining you."

"I didn't ask you to. I came to talk." She straightened up and met his eyes. "We haven't really talked since I went off on you, and I wanted to know how you were doing since then. Still drinking, I can see, but mentally? How...are you? Honestly?"

He cleared his throat before sitting down beside her. "You...were right about me. I...I was being selfish. Obstinate and foolish. I acted like I was the only one in the world who knew that kind of total loss and isolation. I'm not the first or even the hundredth. I understand that, and I'm coming to terms with it. It's not easy. God, is it not easy, but I'm trying. I really am. I just...worry I won't get anywhere."

"Why wouldn't you get anywhere?"

"Beyond self-preservation, Rosita, I have nothing." He shrugged his shoulders despairingly. "I put on a good show for the people here, but they don't know me. I don't know them. They knew my parents, who went out of their way to get to know each and every person here, but I didn't see a point to it. I played the part of the good son, the helpful neighbor, but that's all it was. I was playing pretend, and it became so real..."

"But then came Rick who tore that all down, and that caused my family to be torn away from me. One by one, I lost the most important people in my life, and I lost myself. I still haven't figure out what's left of me without them. I'm not sure there is anything. They were my entire world, my safety net, and all of that's gone." He lowered his eyes. "I've been out there. I've seen those things and killed them. I've dealt with Pentaghast and her men. I... I just don't... I can't..."

"You can't what?" She studied him.

"How do you wake up and want to be a part of this world?" His eyes shined with tears. "I'm trying to answer that question, but nothing comes to mind anymore. I feel like I'm empty. Like I'm nothing but skin and bones, and all the human aspect we're born with, all of the joy and laughter and sense of being alive, have been ripped out of me. I'm nothing."

"You don't want to wake up anymore?"

"I hate waking up," he confessed, pressing his knuckles against his forehead. "I knew the world was harsh and vindictive, but it's too much. I can't handle it. I can't breathe from weight of it. And I'm not sure I even want to. Maybe I should just let it crush me."

"You don't mean that."

"How do you know I don't? You don't know me, Rosita. You're nothing like me. You're a natural born survivor. You're fearless when it counts, and you're resourceful. There's nothing this world can throw at you that you can't throw right back at it and still have the strength to tell it to fuck off."

"I do what I have to do, and I get pissed at the world. That's understandable. This world fucked us all over, so I have every right to say fuck you right back at it. That doesn't make me a badass. It's just me."

"And just you wakes up and has the will to want to stay, to go out there and keep us safe. You have the energy to be alive and to want to continue on. I don't anymore. I just...am here, but I'm not here, too."

"I know that feeling."

"How could you?"

"Because, dummy, I'm not as strong as you think I am. I paint a good picture, because I have to. Falling apart isn't...appropriate when assholes are setting people on fire in your town or holding you hostage. I have to push forward. I can't afford to dwell...but sometimes I do. I regret that I let myself get so far down, because the climb back up that ladder is...such a challenge. I sometimes think I won't make it. That my arms will give out, because how can I get that high just to be knock down again and again and again. It's exhausting, and I always wind up back at the same point. It can take days or weeks or even months, but eventually I end up at the same low point. And I can't breathe. I can't move, and I don't want to. I want the entire world to stop, and I want...it all over, but...it won't just be over. It'll never be over." She rubbed at her eye when tears started to form. "Getting over it all is impossible when the shit keeps coming down on you, but I can't let it hold me back from doing what needs to be done. Because if I do that...someone might die, and I can't have that on my soul. I can't take another death. I really can't."

"What...if it was mine?" he darkly mused. "You wouldn't miss me."

"I would miss you, asshole." She glared at him. "You can't just take yourself out of this world and honestly expect no one to notice, or miss you, because that just doesn't fucking happen ever."

"I was pretty sure you hated me."

"I hated myself for stooping so low, or leading you on, but I don't hate you."

He was quiet for a moment before daring to ask, "Do you still hate yourself?"

"No, but I have a lot of anger." She inhaled. "I don't know how to get rid of it. I don't know where half of it belongs. I can't assign a name to most of it. It's simply there inside of me like this massive wildfire all the time."

"Most people turn to sorrow. You turn to anger."

"I don't naturally turn to anger, but when people fuck you over so many times, you stop being sad and just plan to get even. It's normal."

"But what do you do with the leftover rage?"

"You hollow out. It has to consume something, right?" She leaned over and picked up the bottle, drinking from it.

"It doesn't have to."

"Oh, right, 'cause you're one to talk."

"I know I'm not one to talk, but you could find an outlet."

"Bring me every person whoever screwed me and my family over, and then we'll talk about this."

"Something tells me there isn't enough room in Alexandria for that." He took the bottle to have a drink himself and handed it back to her.

"You're not wrong." She brought the bottle up to her lips and tipped it back.

"I can't help you, and you can't help me. We're both better off talking to a qualified professional."

"I don't think Denise can help me."

"You never know." He rubbed his hands together. "She's a good person, and she'd make time for you."

"I know she would, but I don't think I can unload all of my thoughts onto such a good person." She exhaled. "They're...mangled and fucked up." She swallowed more booze.

"You shouldn't say no before trying."

"Why don't you talk to her then?"

"I'm going to. I can't go on like this." He locked his eyes in hers. "I woke up today and gave myself a choice: eat a bullet or make a gift basket for Carol. I didn't have a craving for lead, so here I am."

She chuckled, though a lump formed in her throat. "Good choice."

"I'm not so sure, but that's why I'm gonna speak to Denise."

"Well, then here's to you living and not just surviving." She held up the bottle and dropped it in the trashcan beside her.

"Hey!"

"The first step to recovery is throwing the temptation away." She crossed her legs. "Besides if there's no booze, I won't be tempted to come over here."

"And here I thought we could be friends."

She laughed. "Friends?"

"Just because we've seen each other naked doesn't mean we can't be friends."

"Yes, it does."

"Why?"

"Because I used you, and I'm not proud of that. I can't be friends with you until I move passed that."

"I thought you already had."

"Yeah, I had, but I think I might fall back on a bad habit." She rested her chin on her knuckles. "I'm going to keep an eye on you, and...I'm not really in the mood for conversation."

"That doesn't mean something will happen."

"Yeah, but it makes my job easier if I wear you out instead of hiding all the knives."

"And if I don't want to?"

"Then I'll just have to hide all the knives and drag Denise over here."

He chuckled. "I didn't think you cared so much."

"I'm full of surprises." She nudged his rib with her elbow and smirked at him. "C'mon, let's finish this basket."

– – –

"Is it over yet?" Carol pushed her hair back from her face, seeing the sun setting through the window.

"Not quite." Neva pulled the sheet down.

"God. Am I even close?" Carol dropped her hands and sat up as best she could without Daryl's help. "It's been hours, and I am exhausted. I don't think I can keep this up for much longer."

"You can. You're doing great." She smiled encouragingly at her. "You're dilated at about four."

"About?"

"It's going to be a bit before Greyson is ready to make his appearance, but both your vitals are strong. You're both in great shape, okay? It's just...going to take time."

She huffed. "How much more time?"

"I don't know. We'll try some physical activities in the morning, and we'll try and get that number up. For now, just try and get some rest."

Neva departed from the room, Daryl returned with food, and Carol heaved a sigh at the thought of this stretching into another day. She rolled her head to the side as Daryl offered a supportive smile, and she faintly returned it, pushing herself into an upright position, and he handed her a fork. She wasn't entirely hungry, but she might as well try and eat something, especially since she had been at this for most of the day. God, she didn't know how people did this before modern medicine. She missed the epidural.

"What'd Neva say?"

"Only confirmed that we're not going to meet Greyson anytime soon." She pushed peas around on her plate, sighing softly. "Sophia took her time, but I had doctors and medicine to make it easier."

Daryl pursed his lips. "Wish I could do more."

"You're here, and that's a lot." She smiled at him. "And...it's not something you can help me with. Childbirth is all on me."

"Is there anything we can do? To move things along?"

"Yeah, Neva mentioned doing them in the morning."

"Why not now?" Daryl frowned.

"Honestly, I think Denise is on the night shift and needs more rest." She stabbed peas with her fork and brought them to her mouth. "And honestly, I'd rather have Neva who studied to do this."

"Ain't that harsh?" Daryl didn't like the implications there.

"I didn't mean for it to be." Her eyes fell into his as she explained. "I respect Denise and trust her, but...Neva has both trained for this and actually given birth. I feel a bit more comfortable with her. And while she doesn't have drugs, she has her fingers."

Daryl snorted at that, nearly choking on an inappropriate chuckle and his dinner.

She shook her head. "I mean the pressure point thing, prev."

"You're the one who wanted me to go down on you at the prison when I was just offerin' to help you off the bus," he playfully protested.

"I was serious about that," Carol informed him.

His brows shot up. "You were? I...thought you were just teasin' me."

"Partly, but...mostly I was serious." She drank a bit of water. "Although I'm glad you didn't. I don't think either of us would have been ready for a relationship back then. Considering all that followed."

"I would've killed Rick," Daryl admitted. "When he told me about you and Karen and David. I nearly knocked him on his ass, but I really would've hurt him if he did that and we were together. Lovin' you as much as I do now...there's no way I would have just let it go."

"Rick did what he thought was best."

"He was wrong."

"I didn't say he was right," she whispered. "Everyone makes mistakes. We have to forgive them for it at some point, you know. I...came back to you all, and it's okay now. You don't need to harbor anymore feelings of anger towards him or the events that followed at the prison. It's over and done. You can't carry that with you anymore."

"I didn't know I was. I thought I'd gotten over it, but...it still pisses me off." He drew in air and sighed it out. "I guess I gotta make peace with it."

"Yes, you do."

"I don't gotta forgive him, do I?"

She laughed. "That's up to you. Forgive him or forget it, it's your decision. It's your peace. Make it yourself. I don't want to influence this decision. He is your best friend."

"Second best." He took her hand and held it. "You're my first and best everythin'."

She grinned at him, and it rapidly turned into a groan, he moved the tray further down the bed, and she tightened her grip on his hand. He lost some feeling in his hand, using the watch Rick had left behind to count down her contractions, and he would have given anything to speed time up and have their son already be here. He hated seeing her in pain, especially being in pain where he couldn't help. He couldn't control her body and urge this process along, but he damn sure was going to do everything Neva told them tomorrow to help her body naturally kick itself into gear. If he had to lecture his son out, he would.

"God." Carol panted when the contraction ceased, lying back against the pillows and releasing Daryl's hand. "If Tobin were here, I'd kill him."

Daryl laughed. "Y'know, it takes two—"

"I know," she grumpily cut him off. "But I'm getting my share right now."

"If Tobin were here, he'd probably have passed out by now." Daryl stroked her belly, and a ghost of a smile crossed her lips.

"Definitely." She wiped a tear from her eye and let go of his hand. "Could you do me a favor?"

"Anythin'."

"Tell me something about you I don't know." She set her hands on her belly. "About you and Merle. Something good. I...need to not think about my current situation right now."

He nodded and thought back to his memories with Merle. There weren't a whole lot of good memories, but there were some sub par ones, and they could bring a smile to her face before the next contraction set in.

––

Maggie stretched her body outside the clinic, yawning loudly and dropping back down on the couch where Enid was already passed out. Glenn was in the armchair, and Tara was across him in the other, and Denise was upstairs napping. Neva was about to rouse her to take over the night shift. Maggie was tempted to take over so they could rest. She had helped her parents birth several babies. They were babies from the animals on the farm, but childbirth was childbirth. And if something did happen that required an actual doctor, it would be best if the doctor was alert and fully rested. Not half and half.

"How much longer is this gonna be?" Tara moaned sleepily. "I don't think Meg took this long."

"Different bodies, different circumstances," Glenn mumbled from his chair.

"I'm gonna die." She buried her face in her arms, her body coiled up like a human snake in the armchair.

"You literally have two other beds upstairs," Maggie reminded her.

"Yeah, but one is for Neva, and the other was Enid's old bed. And I like sleeping with my girlfriend. It helps me to sleep."

"Get a teddy bear," Glenn suggested, closing his eyes.

"Maybe I'll cuddle Maggie and the baby pop," Tara mused.

"Baby pop?" Maggie waved over Enid's unconscious body, assuming that was who she meant.

Tara shook her head and pointed to Maggie's stomach. "That baby pop."

Maggie smiled softly. "I'm the only one cuddlin' baby pop for now."

"Baby hog." She smirked at her. "Guess I'll have to hog Greyson from his Godparents."

"Over my dead body." This came from Glenn who was going in and out of sleep.

"What he said." Maggie wrapped her arms loosely around her stomach. "We have second dibs."

"After Daddy Dixon dibs." Tara pursed her lips. "Guess I'll have third dibs. If those are a thing."

"They are now."

"Cool. I'm inventin' new terms. Take that my graduating high school class. Class clown Tara Chambler is makin' up new terms. Suck it."

Maggie giggled. "Just go to sleep."

"I'm trying."

Maggie stroked Enid's hair, and the young girl moaned softly, burying her face in the throw pillow even more, and Maggie kissed her temple. She carefully stood up and edged her way back into the clinic. She checked in on Carol and Daryl, who were talking softly, and she let them be. She sat down on the gurney and pulled the sonogram photo out, looking it over, feeling an anchor settle on her chest once more.

"How far along?"

Maggie jumped at the older woman speaking up from the corner of the room. "Oh, God. I didn't see you there."

"Being invisible is what I do best." She apologized with a smile. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"You surprised me is all."

Neva approached her. "So, do you know how far along you are?"

"Yeah, just over 12 weeks."

"That's good." She smiled at her. "Are you happy?"

"It's...a mixture of joy and nerves."

"You've lost a baby." Neva knew the look in the young woman's eyes, and Maggie nodded. "I'm very sorry. It's...difficult. You never truly are able to move beyond it, but it does become less. The weight of loss, the pit of hollowness, the...guilt and burden...become less. With time and with new hope."

Maggie smiled somberly at her. "You sound familiar with this type of loss, and I don't mean your daughter."

"I...had a hard time getting pregnant myself. Jo was my miracle. My angel. The love of my life." She blinked back tears. "I couldn't have made it as far as I have today without her, and I'm only here now because I can't tarnish her memory by ending my own life. She lives inside of my heart, and I'll keep her there until it's my time. She deserves more than that, but it's all I can offer her."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's my burden to bear." She looked at the sonogram, and Maggie let her hold it. "Your first was your angel, dear girl, but this one. This one will be your miracle. Beautiful and strong, just like you. I know it. This baby will...make this world better by simply being in it. As you and Glenn are."

Maggie snuffled. "I'm not so sure. I'm scared to hope."

"Never be afraid of good things. Hope is one of the best good things this world has to offer. Never fear it."

She nodded.

"Get some rest." She handed the sonogram back. "Your body and mind need that right now."

"Thank you."

She patted her hands. "Good night, sweetie, and may we have a sweet boy to hold in ours tomorrow."

Maggie could only nod through her tears, and she returned to the living room, snuffling. She cleared her cheeks of tears and found Glenn sound asleep in the armchair. She smiled at the sight of him and walked over to him, placing a kiss to his temple. She couldn't imagine a world without him, and she felt deep in her heart that she never would have to. One day, he would leave her naturally, but he would live on in their children. So would Hershel and Jo and herself. There wasn't an end really, just...a change. A shift. Tobin would be alive in his son, just as Lori was alive in Carl and Judith, and Josephine in Eli. It was beautiful, because she knew while their baby was gone, it would never really be gone. That baby was in their hearts and their souls, and this baby was too, but this baby would be here with them. She knew it. She felt it, and she wasn't afraid. Not anymore.

She set a hand on her belly and expelled a sigh that held most of her doubts and worries, sending them far away. This wasn't a time for doubts and worries. It was a time of great bliss and memories. A baby boy was going to be born into this world, their family was going to grow, and she was going to become a mother to a newborn when he or she was ready. Enid would become a big sister. Glenn would become a father. Those were all wonderful things to become. No tears of sorrow. No regrets. Just one step at a time and breathe.

She lowered herself down onto the couch and got comfortable, Enid shifted, and Maggie lied down, lifting her legs over the arm of the couch, her head beside Enid's. She rolled her head to the side, facing Enid, and she closed her eyes, drifting off almost immediately.

– – –

Daryl looked over Carol as she slept, drinking a cup of coffee as the sun rose, and he couldn't help but think of how soon their son would be there. He would be able to hold him in his arms and see his face. He would hear him breathing and hold his little hands as he had with newborn Judith, only this was his baby. His son to raise and guide and support.

He wasn't sure how good of a father he would be. He had no example growing up, but now...he had a few in his mind. He had Hershel to look to, and he had some moments from Rick. He couldn't piece them together to make a father good enough to show him the way, but he could use them to help himself figure out the type of father he could be. He would never do to his son what his father did to him. He didn't have to worry about that, because he knew he wouldn't do that. He had a strength in him that fucker could never dream to touch now. He had a good heart. A good head on his shoulders. He was a good man. A worthy man. It had taken him a long time on Denise's couch to realize that, but he was worthy and good and strong. He deserved this chance to be a husband and father. He deserved to be happy. He wasn't a bad guy. He never was. He made plenty of mistakes, but those mistakes didn't own him. They didn't make him. They were just in his past. He had overcome and bettered himself, and while that didn't take everything away, that knowledge that he had grown up and become better shrunk those mistakes. He was...proud of himself and of who he had become.

He had been called many things in his life. A bastard, a piece of shit, redneck trash, a pussy, a coward, a...dumbass. Perhaps they were true. Maybe he was all of those things at one time, and that maybe was okay and maybe it wasn't, but it didn't matter. They belonged to his past, to a man he no longer was, and he didn't have to carry them around any longer, because he had been called so many other greater things. A friend, a brother, a leader, a lover, a husband and now a father. His past shaped him into who he was today, and he wouldn't change who he was now for anything, because for the first time he was truly happy. He was loved. He was grateful. Lucky, too, even. Yeah, he was damn lucky to have this woman in his life.

Denise came into the room, and Daryl put a finger to his lips. She nodded her head and checked on Carol as best she could without waking her up. She pulled Daryl from the room afterward, and he topped off his coffee.

"How's she doin'?" He rested his feet on the bar underneath the stool he sat on.

"Good." Denise wrote down in the file Neva was keeping for Carol. "Pulse is strong, and her blood pressure has been good the entire time, so I'm not too worried about her. I think this rest will do her some good."

"Yeah, it's been...hours and hours of contractions and nothin' comin' from 'em. It's wiped her."

"Yeah, I'd say. It's been nineteen hours of labor pains and no fruit. I'd be out, too."

Daryl hadn't been counting the hours, but shit, Carol was a trooper. "Any way to tell how much longer it'll be?"

"I'm afraid not. This isn't my area of expertise anyway, sorry."

"Nah, it's okay. Neva has some stuff for us to do once Carol's up to try and get him out."

"I hope they work."

"Me, too."

"I'll bet." She broke out into a huge smile. "When it's over, you get to be a dad, and you get to take home a precious little boy. You're stooked, right? I mean, I am, and I'm not even as much a part of it as you."

"I am." He couldn't help but smile. "I can't wait to meet him and hold him."

"Any thoughts of him all grown up? Like...I don't know, training with him? Teaching him?"

"Yeah, actually, I've had a lot of thoughts about that. I want him to be a good man, capable and resourceful. I want me and Carol to raise him to be a survivor, but more than that, too, you know? I want him to rely on his gut and his skills but know...how to spot a good person and how to better himself once we're gone. Do you think I can manage that?"

"I don't think so." She snickered at the offense plastered on his face. "I know so."

"Oh." His smile returned to the corner of his mouth. "Thanks, Denise."

"It's what friends are for." She picked up the file. "I have to find Enid. We have a lesson today. Our last one."

"Wow, that was quick."

"She's a quick study, and...there's only so much I can teach her. She'll have the knowledge, and she'll learn more with experience."

"That's true."

"I'll be back to check on Carol when she wakes up. Let me know. I have my walkie."

He nodded and watched her leave, drawing in a deep breath and rubbing his eye with the palm of his hand. He had a lot to work through, but he had some time before his son was born, and he wouldn't spend it staring at the walls. And imagining teaching his son how to hunt and track and fish...and set a trap. "Heh." He felt like a kid, daydreaming about all of it, but it lightened his heart to think about it. All the things a father was meant to teach his son, Daryl would teach, and all the things parents were meant to teach their child, he and Carol would teach. And all the little and big things Greyson would need to know to survive this world, this family would teach him. Just as they would Judith and Eli. Important lessons, all of them, and none would left out.

"Hey, Pops." Glenn chuckled at the cringe that passed through Daryl. "Kidding."

"You best be, Short Round."

"I see the highly covetted coffee has been broken out." He helped himself to a cup. "You look like shit. I'm guessing you didn't sleep."

"Nah, Carol was up most of the night with contractions and some leg cramps. I kept her company. She finally fell asleep a few hours ago."

"That explains why Denise and Enid are having a lesson on the porch." He leaned over the counter and drank from his cup. "Any progress?"

"No, but Neva has some ideas. We're gonna trying 'em when Carol wakes up."

"That's good. I hope they get this over with. I mean, Carol's gotta be miserable." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't know how she's doing it."

"Me either."

"Women." Glenn exhaled. "They're incredible."

"You got that right." Tara joined the boys. "That's why I love them. Well, one of them."

"Yes, and that one is on the porch."

"I'm not looking for her, but thanks." She moistened her lips. "I'm about to take up a shift on the wall. Eugene's been up there all night."

"I thought Spencer had morning shift."

"He did, but he hasn't shown up yet, so I'm gonna go ahead and fill in for him. I have time, so I don't mind, though I will be stopping by afterward to talk to him." She grabbed an apple from the basket and headed out for her shift.

Daryl shifted on his stool. "How's Maggie doin'?"

"Good. She went home to shower and change, but she'll be back over around noon."

"That's not what I meant."

Glenn studied his face and found an unsurprising answer. "Carol suspected she was pregnant and told you." It wasn't a question.

"Yeah."

"Well, she was right, and Maggie is. She's 12 weeks and a day today." He bit his bottom lip. "We're out of danger somewhat, but it doesn't feel like...we've made it through the woods yet."

"I think y'all made it through the woods a long time ago." Daryl squared his shoulders. "It'll feel better once the months go by, trust me. That's how I felt with Carol when I found out about the baby. I spent so many hours agonizing over the ways she could lose the baby or ways the baby could die, but it's pointless. What happens will happen."

"What if what happens is a repeat of what already happened? I can't go through that again, Daryl. I can't watch Maggie go through that again. It nearly killed us. If it happens again, it will end everything we have. I'd lose everything."

"You won't."

"How do you know? You're not... You don't know. You can't know."

"No, but I can hope," Daryl laid out. "I used to not put any stock in hope, but...it ain't all bullshit. Sometimes good stuff does come of it. You should try it."

Glenn laughed through his nose. "I never thought you'd be one to lecture me on hope. Rick, maybe, but never you."

"People change."

"I suppose they do." His lips curled upward in a warm and thankful smile. "Thank you, Daryl."

"Anytime, brother."

"Daryl." Neva came out of the clinic, and he turned to face her. "She's up."

His smile fell. It seemed like she'd only just fallen asleep. "Be right there."

She headed back inside, Glenn wished him luck, and Daryl polished off his coffee before jogging back to Carol's room. He walked in on them talking about taking a walk around town, and he was glad it had warmed up, because if Carol's expression was any indicator, they were going to be walking trenches in the ground until this child was out of her.

– – –

Michonne was on the wall that evening, Carl and Enid were playing with Eli and Judith at his house, and Maggie and Denise were changing the sheets to Carol's bed. Rick and Glenn were preparing dinner for both the clinic and their own homes, and Daryl was dying behind Carol, who wasn't going to let up on walking. They walked by Tara and didn't even say hi, though Daryl did weakly wave before hurrying to catch his wife.

Tara chuckled, thinking he was a poor fool, and she was about to continue walking back to her house when she spotted Rosita slinking out of Spencer's house. In his shirt. In the middle of the night. She heaved a sigh and intervened instantly.

"What's up?" Rosita tried to play it cool.

"Don't be cute. It works, but don't do it."

She crossed her arms. "I'm an adult. I don't need a lecture."

"You do when your actions screw up the wall rotation."

"It got covered...didn't it?"

"It did, but that's not the point. The point is you and Spencer shouldn't be doing it all night and day, because you both don't want a relationship, and you both have issues you need to work out before taking any steps forward with someone else."

"Okay, Mom." She hung her head to the side and groaned. "Fine, okay, you're right. I don't know what I'm doing."

"C'mon." Tara put her arm around her and walked her towards the clinic.

"But that doesn't mean I want to talk it out with your girlfriend."

"You're not. You're talking to me."

Ten minutes later they were on the clinic porch, and Tara waited until after Rosita got some food in her before they started talking. Tara had a lot of questions for her, and she didn't want any excuses popping up. They really needed to talk.

"Why were you over there in the first place?"

"I was in the neighborhood."

"We're all in the same neighborhood. Try again."

She gripped the bottom of the bench and puffed. "He has whiskey, and I wanted a drink. I didn't want to deal with Olivia's questions or looks, so I went directly to him. He's convenient."

"That's messed up."

"But he is."

"Still messed up. You can't use him like that."

"I'm not using him. If anything, we...are using each other. It's a good agreement."

"Yeah, if you're both stupid. Those types of agreements never work. That's why you broke it off in the first place. I thought you'd grown up some, but was I wrong? I don't think I was, so tell me the truth. What's really going on with you lately?"

"I'm lonely, all right? Are you happy now?" She shot up and groaned. "I don't have anybody, and I get that that can be okay, but it got to a point where it wasn't. I wanted somebody, and Spencer was nearby. It's not a good solution, but I'm not like you and Denise or Carol and Daryl or Rick and Michonne. I didn't find a soul mate at the end of the world. I had my heart broken, and I'm trying to deal with everything that comes along with that all by myself, because my typical support system is gone. They're dead or...the walking dead. I don't know. I never got to know, and that's something else I have to come to terms with all on my own, because everyone else...get closure or enough of it anyway."

"Rosita—"

"Don't. I don't want any pity. That's why I'm doing this all on my own. I don't want that look directed at me. I hate that look. I'm fine."

"You're not fine. You're so far from fine."

"I'll manage."

"You shouldn't have to. We...fought and struggle and paid the price for this place again and again. It's time to be happy now, to...try and find some semblance of a normal life in this world. It doesn't have to be with a man or a woman; it can just be with you, but...you're...not looking for that. Are you?"

"How can I be happy when...I'm carrying so much?" Tears filled those dark orbs. "The world has shaken me, and I handled that. I became who I had to. Then Eugene tilted my world twice, and I handled that. I got over it. And now...all that's happened here... It's been so much. I don't...think I have any more room to compartmentalize all of it, and it's...pushing me to the edge. I feel like I'm...insane. Like I'm running in the same circles and trying desperately to get out, but I'm stuck in the same space, and I'm suffocating."

"And how does Spencer help that?"

"He doesn't. He just gets me out of my head for a while."

"That's not going to help you in the long run."

"I'm not sure I'll make it to the long run."

Tara flew off the bench. "Of course you will! You can't think you won't. I understand how hard life gets you down, especially in this fucked up life, but...you can't just take it. You have to fight back."

"I have fought back. I've spend so much time fighting back, and...I am worn out."

"Then let me help you fight." She gripped her shoulders. "Let Denise help you fight, Rosita. When you're down and out, tag us the fuck in, okay? You aren't alone. You don't have to be lonely. I'm right here. Your friend. Your family. I love you, Rosita. I always will."

She whimpered and lowered her head.

"You don't need a man. You don't need a boy toy. You need a foundation. You can find that inside yourself or with others. Babe, I will be your foundation for life." She hugged her. "All of us will be if you let us."

"I can't ask—"

"Bitch, please, you don't have to ask." She held her tighter. "You never have to ask."

She laughed humorlessly and held tight to her.

Tara's heart broke at the feel of Rosita shaking in her arms, and she wished she would have talked to her about this sooner. Being on your own after never being alone in your entire life was like hitting a ton of bricks. After losing her entire family...Tara knew that feeling all too well, and she would make up for not seeing this sooner.

"It's all right." Tara rubbed her back. "It'll be all right from here on out. I promise." She needed to talk to Denise, but Enid's old room was empty now, and having a roommate would be nice. They had a crowd in the house now, so it'd be great to have at least one more person in the home now.

––

Daryl was passed out cold on the chair beside Carol's bed, his face buried in the pillow Neva had gotten him, Carol stroked his hair with a soft smile on her face, and Neva used her other arm to take her blood pressure and pulse. Denise came through to collect their empty plates, and Carol asked how Rosita was doing. They had seen her on their way back in, and she was crying so hard. Tara had helped her upstairs to sleep in the guest bedroom, and they hadn't heard anything since.

"She's as asleep as Daryl." Denise smiled. "We're going to let her rest. She's...had a hard time, and I need to talk to her about it. When she's ready, obviously."

Carol nodded. "So, how is everything, Doc?"

"Even." She tucked her hands into her pocket. "You've only gotten to five, however."

"Even after all of that?" Carol didn't have the energy to be stunned. She was more pissed than anything. "Do I have to will this kid out of me?"

"I don't know, but we'll try again in a bit. Just get some rest, and I'll be back to check on you."

Carol folded her arms. "This is going to take a lifetime. He'll come out four years old and just greet everybody vocally."

Denise laughed. "I'm sure it won't be as bad as that."

"But it'll be bad." She glanced at the door Neva had departed through. "Is there something wrong, and she just doesn't want to tell me? Is he...okay?"

"Of course he is." Denise went to her side. "I wouldn't let her lie to you about how Greyson is doing."

"Are you sure?" She hugged her arms tighter. "Because I'm having doubts. I know how labor goes, and while it's been over a decade since I've done it, it didn't...feel like this."

"Carol, look at me." Denise gripped her hand. "I swear to you that Greyson is healthy and strong. He's taking his sweet time coming out, but he is safe. Nothing will happen to him."

She swallowed. "Could I just see? To be sure?"

"Well, I don't want to wake Daryl up, but Maggie and Glenn brought me a gift from this trip to Hilltop." She released Carol's hand and stepped into the other room to retrieve the fetal Doppler. "We can hear his heartbeat. Will that do?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Good." Denise turned the device on and let Carol arrange herself accordingly. "This is my first time using this, so if you know how to use it better than I do, take it from me." She pulled it from the box along with the gel. "This is probably cold."

"It always is."

Denise recalled what she'd seen Neva do the last time and mirrored it, flicking the monitor on and using the probe to locate the best angle for hearing Greyson's heartbeat. She knew the other sounds to be heard in the womb, so she tried to discern them. She fretted she might be leading the probe incorrectly and putting unnecessary stress on Carol. She didn't want to do that, but she wasn't this type of doctor. She wasn't really a doctor at all, so if she...

"Ah." She stopped at the sound of intense beating, and she recognized the sound instantly. "Got it."

Carol's entire posture relaxed at the sound of her son's beating heart, and a couple tears escaped. "There he is."

"Wow, look at that." She ran her eyes over the monitor. "He is doing strong."

"You weren't sure?" Carol eyed her.

"No! No, I knew he was, but not this strong. He—I mean, I don't—" Denise stopped. "Um, just try and forget that statement. It wasn't as negative as you thought."

She ran her hand over her face. "Thank you, Denise, and it's okay. I know you didn't mean anything negative." She rested her knuckles under her chin. "Could I keep that? Just... in case this drags on much longer?"

"Oh, of course." She handed it over. "It's pretty self-explanatory."

"Thanks." She set it on the bed beside her.

"I'm gonna go check on Rosita." She pulled a towel from the bedside table and handed it to her. "I'll be back to check on you."

Carol accepted the towel and called her before she left. "Could you bring me some paper? I'm getting bored, and I don't have the patience to read. Maybe I can doodle. Or play Dots with Daryl when he wakes up."

"Sure. I'll be right back."

Carol lifted her hand and set it back on Daryl's head as he snoozed softly beside her. She wanted to kiss his head, but she couldn't quite reach him with this belly. She would just have to make due with this for now. Once he woke up then she could kiss him, and it wouldn't taste like fruit shampoo.

"I don't know how I ever deserved you." She threaded her fingers through his soft chestnut hairs. "But I couldn't love and respect you more."

He moaned but continued to snooze.

"Hmm." She leaned back on the pile of pillows supporting her, and she waited for Denise to bring her notepad. She might as well make out a list of things to help Daryl with Greyson if he truly wasn't going to let her do anything. It was thoughtful, but she would help him out, even if he didn't want her to. Greyson was their son, and she wasn't slack on her end.

Denise returned with an unused notepad and a couple pens then looked in on Rosita. She wanted to make sure she was still sleeping, and she wasn't. She was just waking, and Denise closed the door behind her to talk to her. It was overdue.

"Hey, sleepyhead." Denise offered a smile.

"What time is it?" She ran a hand through her hair. "I mean, is it night or day?"

"It's nighttime."

She moaned. "I slept the entire day away then."

"Pretty much." She seated herself beside the young woman. "What's going on with you?"

"I already did this with Tara. I don't want to redo it with you. I don't want to redo that at all."

"Rosita, you screwed around with Spencer and came out in almost all his clothes."

"He tore my shirt." She rolled up the sleeves to Spencer's shirt. "I'm swimming in this thing, but it is comfortable."

"I don't doubt it, but that's not the point."

"The point is it won't happen again."

"Yes, it will." She locked her gaze in Rosita's. "It'll keep happening until you talk about what's bugging you. I know you can stand on your own two feet just fine. You don't need a crutch, so why are you doing this? I know you don't have feelings for him."

"He distracts me, plain and simple."

"I don't think it's simple at all, Rosita."

"It can be. I'm...a loose cannon right now, and he's a thinning rope keeping me still. Once it snaps, who the hell knows what I'll do."

"Spencer...is a good man, and he'll fall in love with you without meaning to, but you don't love him. You don't love anybody, not since Abraham."

"And look where that got me. Love and the end of the world don't mix."

"It can, if you find a healthy type of love, but you don't have to find it. You can love yourself, and you can be alone."

"Yeah, the thing about that is...I hate being alone. It's shit."

"It is, and as someone who spent a lot of time being alone, it doesn't get better. You get better. You can heal. You can...find out who you are without someone. It's lonely, but it can be what you need. Now, you don't have to be alone completely alone." She set her hand over hers. "Tara and I would love to help you through this tough time. You're our friend, our family, and...we want to be by your side."

"How?" She tried to keep the moisture from her eyes.

"You can move in with us. We have this spare room, and...it'd be nice to have someone to talk to in the mornings that isn't a total grump." She smiled. "And it'd be nice for you to not have to see Sasha and Abe next door all the time."

"You...want me to live with you and Tara? Seriously?"

"Why not?"

"You two are in a relationship. You're in love. You don't need me third wheeling your lives. I'll feel like an ass, and that won't help anybody."

"You're not an ass, and we both want you here. It's a clean environment, and it's...full of love. You can be a part of that love. You already are."

"I feel like you're hitting on me right now," Rosita mused. "Like a three way situation."

"Stop." Denise laughed. "I'm not offering that at all."

"I know. I just had to break the serious tension in here." She pulled her hand from underneath Denise's and stood up, placing her hands on her hips and inhaling deeply. "Hmm...okay."

"Okay? You mean you'll do it? You'll move in?"

"It's better than seeing that same crusty bed where Eugene used to watch me and Abe screw." She faced her. "I appreciate this, Denise. I really do. I won't...let you down."

"I won't want you to, but I don't want you to let yourself down even more." She rose and gripped her shoulders. "Make yourself proud of the woman you are, not just the warrior."

She smiled dryly and bobbed her head in a yes motion.

"I'll let Tara know." She dropped her hands. "There's some food downstairs if you're hungry."

"Thank you."

Denise smiled affectionately and slipped out of the room, and Rosita brought her arms in and wrapped them around her torso, hugging herself tightly. She collapsed onto the bed and kept her body clutched, resting her forehead on her knees, compressing her stomach she was holding herself so tightly. She closed her eyes and exhaled, shaking her head and sobbing. There were a lot of open wounds in her heart and in her mind that nobody had seen, because she wouldn't allow them, but here they were now...bleeding out and letting air in. She wasn't sure if she could take it, but she knew if she couldn't, she had family who would happily help her withstand it.

– – –

Sasha stood at the fence she had built to wrap around the pond, the moon's light reflecting off its blue surface, and she held herself to fend off the still icy night's breeze. She had finished her shift and was wandering around, killing time before she inevitably returned to her home. She wasn't sure why she was lingering, but at the same time that was a lie. She knew. She could feel it in her bones and at her ear. She had the answer to why months ago. She was only procrastinating.

"There you are."

She shifted her body slightly to face Michonne. "Were you looking for me?"

"I was, actually, yeah." She joined her at the fence. "I need you to trade shifts with Maggie at the wall for tomorrow night. She wants to be with Carol as Godmother. If you don't want to, I'm sure I can find someone else."

"No, it's all right. I don't mind to."

"Thanks. I'll let Maggie know."

Sasha tilted her head upward to gaze at the man on the moon's full surface, and she shivered inwardly. "Tyreese had to show me the man on the moon," she mumbled."

"Hmm?" Michonne leaned towards her.

"When we were kids, he used to talk about the man in the moon and how he saw him. I never did. I just saw the big, white moon. He pointed it out to me so many times, but it never really stuck. I eventually told him I saw it so he wouldn't look so disappointed." She chuckled in memory of his sullen face. "He was like a puppy, all pouty that I didn't see it."

Michonne's lips curved upward. "I can see that."

"I...see him now in the moon."

"The man?"

She shook her head. "Tyreese. I see those...gentle eyes and that affectionate smile."

"I miss him, too."

"He was...stronger than me in ways I didn't know until he was gone," Sasha divulged. "His heart was fragile...but only because he cared and loved beyond reason. He forgave...and protected. He deserved so much better than he got, and...it breaks my heart that we found this place, because he belonged here. He was made for a place like this."

"He was," Michonne agreed. "He would have been great with the kids and with the work schedule."

"He should have made it here. Noah should have survived here."

"A lot of people should have survived and made it here, but...they didn't. We did, but they didn't, and it's not acceptable. It's...bullshit. Beth and Noah should be here right now, being teenagers and growing into adults. Tyreese and Bob should be here, taking shifts and keeping an eye on our inventory. Tobin, Deanna, Reg, Aiden, Andrea, Mika, Lizzie, Karen, David...the list goes on, and it always will."

"I know, but that doesn't take the anger away. The regret."

"Tyreese...wasn't made for this world. His heart was good and soft, and he was an amazing person, but he wasn't made for a world like this."

"And we were?"

"No, but we made ourselves to be. He couldn't. It wasn't true to who he was at his core. I don't know what's out there when we die, but I know he's in a much better place. His heart isn't weighted down by all the losses, any of his mistakes and regrets. He's free now, and it's okay to mourn him. To miss, but don't be angry. It only eats away at you."

She scrutinized the lake's ripples from the breezes that occasionally blew to keep from looking at Michonne. "Carol's pregnant. Maggie might be pregnant. Our next generation."

"Yeah. It's beautiful."

"Is it?" Her voice deepened with emotion, her throat sore. "How can we bring life into this world? It's cold and calculating and seemingly always against us. How can we thrust this world onto innocent children? How can we be so selfish?"

"It's not...selfish to have a child in this world."

"Yes, it is."

"Everyone deserves a chance to have a family," Michonne stated. "To pass on their traditions and values and genes, to see their line live on."

"And how is that fair to the life they're bringing into this mess?"

"Maybe it's an uneven trade, but the world might get better." Sasha scoffed. "It might get better because we make it better. With blood and bullets or with words and treaties, we'll make it better. They'll make it better. They're hope, Sasha. Our children are our hope that this world that we fight for and that we die for will live on and all those deaths and losses will have meant something."

She dared to look at the woman beside her. "You think that?"

"I have to, because I have Judith and Carl. I want this world to be better for them, so that they don't have to fight tooth and nail like we do every single time a new threat arises. I want Judith to one day walk outside to an unknown group and not feel threatened by them, but...be able to welcome them without fear or suspicion. I don't know that it'll happen in her lifetime or not, but I have to try with everything I have to work for that goal. She deserves my every effort. Greyson deserves my every effort. Carl, Enid, Maggie's unborn babies, all unborn babies. I want to make a world where their battles aren't wars, and their struggles aren't life or death."

She sniffed. "That's an admirable goal. I like that."

Michonne set a hand on her shoulder. "Children will always be a blessing, no matter the condition of the world. They open your mind to new possibilities and keep you driven, keep you focused. They aren't a mistake. I don't know if you and Abe will ever make that decision, but if you do...remember that."

"Thank you, Michonne."

"Of course."

"Do you remember what I told you when we were making this fence?"

"I do."

"I still mean that. I just...lost myself in the pain."

"That's okay, as long as you remember that pain isn't all there is and where pain comes from." At Sasha's furrowed brows, Michonne smiled. "Love. Pain comes from love, and love is...the purest thing this world has to offer. That's why pain is so dark and so heavy. Opposites do that."

She gulped. "Pain comes from love, huh? I hadn't thought of it that way."

"You only have one viewpoint when you're dwelling in those dark emotions alone," Michonne told her. "Come inside, and we'll talk some more. It's not spring yet."

The pair made their way back home with the man in the moon looking down on them, perhaps...even smiling.

– – –

"Okay, this oughta to work." Neva handed the small cup to Carol, who disbelievingly curled her nose at the thick substance. "It's castor oil. This should have that kid outta you."

"What's castor oil?" Daryl looked at his wife's displeased expression. "What's it supposed to do?"

"It has a lot of properties, but for our situation, I'm hoping it jump starts this labor process. It's been over thirty hours, and I can't watch her struggle. I asked Abe to locate me some, and he was able to procure it from the loads of pharmacy items Daryl brought."

"You found castor oil when you found my folic acid?" Carol inquired.

"I just grabbed whatever I saw." He blushed sheepishly. "If it works, ain't you glad I did?"

"I still have to drink it." She brought the cup to her lips and downed it, praying it worked, because this was getting to be fucking ridiculous. Greyson was coming out today, if it was the last thing she did. He was going to be born. Today. Her will demanded it.

Neva went over the effects castor oil would have on her, and Daryl readied Carol to go out again for another walk. It was a beautiful day, warm and the scent of flowers on the breeze. The kids were all outside, playing now that class had let out, and even some lunches were taken outside. All the houses had their windows open to welcome the shy spring, and Carol and Daryl saw the majority of their family as they ventured onward.

Rosita was teaching a class out by the garden, showing the proper way to utilize a machete for offense and defense. Maggie and Glenn tending to the garden along with some others, laughing at their fingers finding each other underneath the rich, sun-warmed earth and sharing a few kisses. Abraham and Eugene were looking over the latest round of bullets to come from their little project, Abe shooting a dummy they had made with one and Eugene going off about how good the results of this batch were. Abe could only shake his head and be impressed.

Further down Michonne and Carl were practicing hand-to-hand combat, a new thing they had come up with a few hours ago after watching a movie. Rick and Judith were sitting nearby to monitor how it was going while simultaneously having a play date with Eric and Eli. The girls were deeply invested in their toys. Aaron and Sasha were on duty at the wall, Sasha keeping an eye out from above and Aaron by the gate, clearing off a few walkers from outside the gate.

Gabriel was holding a service outside by the solar panels, a few of the older residences of Alexandria were there, holding hands and saying a prayer. Morgan could be seen a few yards away, doing his usual morning routine, and he sent a grin to Carol and Daryl as they passed. Carol returned it thinly, worn to the bone from these past few hellish hours, and Daryl returned his grin with a wave. They would have stop to chat, but Carol wanted to keep going. There was plenty of time for talk once Greyson was born.

Spencer and Francine passed on their way to meet Olivia for the weekly inventory check, discussing a potential run outside the walls. Daryl didn't like the sound of it, and from Francine's face, she wasn't too fond of the idea either. Spencer was hopefully just talking to talk, and if not, he was going to get shut down quick. He wanted to be helpful, but helpful didn't always mean safe and smart.

On their second lap around after yet another stop by the bathroom, Tara joined with expectant parents some water and a watch to track the contractions as Daryl hadn't thought to grab one. They talked about the baby for a few blocks, but as they passed the cemetery, Daryl shifted the conversation to other topics. He didn't want to think about all those who should be here and weren't. He was interested in Eugene and Abe's project, and Tara told him to check it out, and she'd keep going around with Carol. He didn't want to leave her side, but Carol assured him she was fine and Greyson wasn't going anywhere just yet. It took a few ten minutes to convince him, but eventually he did go check it out himself. Him and a few of the kids in Rosita's morning class.

"Boys and their toys." Tara lifted her watch when Carol's grip clamped down on her hand. She was going to need so much ice. Shakespeare got one thing fight: Though she be but little she is fierce. Woman had the grip of a lioness's jaw.

They proceeded around and around and around and around. At some point Daryl had come back to them, and Tara's legs were getting sore, but she was in it for the long ass haul, because why the fuck not. They marched circles around that town, and when Carol was in the bathroom, and Daryl and Tara took those breaks to die a little in the grass. Eventually, after hours of speed walking and pit stops for water and bathroom breaks, the contractions were practically on top of each other, and Greyson was ready to be in the world.

Neva was bum rushed by them, Daryl was carrying Carol over to the bed, Tara had yanked Maggie and Glenn from their porch, and a small group of family rushed after her. Neva had Daryl and Maggie on either of Carol's sides, Denise was ready with fresh towels, and Tara had to keep the group—Rick, Michonne, Morgan, Sasha and Francine—out in their living room that was doubling as a lobby.

"All right, Carol." Neva had Daryl and Maggie holding's Carol's legs up for her. "It's time to meet your son, so I need you to push. Okay? You ready?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, push!"

This was where everything became a blur. Maggie held Carol's leg and hand an arm around her shoulder, telling her to push and also to breathe, and Daryl was on the other side, holding her other leg in one hand and her hand in the other, telling her both to push and that he loved her. Denise and Neva worked in tandem to deliver Greyson, and Carol put all of her energy into giving birth to her son, to one of two of the most important men in her life. Her heart and soul and body worked together to ease Greyson into the world...and not thirty minutes later, there he was in their world before them, crying and beautiful and alive before their eyes.

Neva had Daryl cut the umbilical cord and asked Denise to clean him off some, so they could hold him before his first bath. Maggie covered Carol's lower body and kissed her temple, crying tears of joy at the sight she'd just witnessed. Daryl had tears in his own eyes—as did the whole room, to be honest—his eyes on the life in Denise's arm, the various substances on his little body being gingerly wiped off so that his face was clean and revealed to them.

Denise handed him first to his mother, who sat up with the aid of her husband and Maggie, and Carol adjusted the blanket she had put her little boy in, only tucking in cloth by his chin to see his entire face. Good God, he was beautiful with ten fingers and ten toes, his face the almost perfect mirror of his mother's, only the jaw and golden-brown hairs spoke of his natural father. His eyes opened up as his cries all but stopped, and gorgeous blue eyes looked up at her with a lovely mix of confusion and love. It shifted slowly to love and fascination, his mouth releasing soft cooes at her, and he just looked at her.

"Hello, Greyson." Carol snuffled, tears falling from her eyes. "I've been waiting to meet you so for long. I'm so...glad...so glad that you finally decided it was time."

Daryl laughed and snuffled, wiping at his eyes.

She kissed his forehead. "You're my angel, Greyson. My sweet, sweet angel." She carefully squeezed him to her chest, rocking him for a moment then looked up at Daryl. "Meet your dad."

Daryl gulped and tenderly accepted his son from his wife's arms, holding him the way he'd held Judith so long ago, and he smiled down at the angelic face in his arms. Those deep blues were glued to his face, bubbling with trust and interest, and Daryl vowed that he wouldn't betray that trust for the world. Daryl wiped his tear on his upper sleeve and spoke softly to Greyson.

Carol looked at her boys, her heart...overflowing, and she leaned back against the pillows, smiling contently. Her entire body felt...peace, and she rested her head back. "I love you..."

Daryl tore his eyes off his son and beamed at his wife, and Greyson burbled at him. He would have looked back at his son, but something felt wrong. Something...something didn't feel...right. "Carol?" He stepped towards her.

Neva inhaled and cleared her throat, keeping the tears in her eyes at bay. "She must be exhausted." She walked over to her side and checked her pulse. "Hey, Maggie? Why don't you take Greyson for his first bath?"

Maggie's heart stopped and a frigid wave washed through her blood. "O—okay." She gently took the boy from his father and stepped back out towards the hall, her eyes on Carol's limp figure.

"Neva?" Denise's heart was pounding in her ears. "Is she okay?"

"I don't know. Maybe. I need Daryl to start chest compressions." She looked over the chart that listed their inventory while Daryl did as instructed, and Denise grabbed a breathing tube from the drawer beside Carol's bed, quickly ripping it open.

The trio worked as one to try and revive Carol, Neva wasn't one for praying, but she was praying now for Carol to wake up. She ordered Daryl to put more effort into his compressions, that if he broke a rib, it'd be okay. If it worked then she would be alive, and it would have time to heal...

"Come on, Carol, please." Denise set a hand on her cheek, squeezing the breathing bag.

There was an adage that stated anything that can go wrong, will go wrong. That was the case here. From the beginning of the pregnancy onward, the worst the could happen to this baby did happen. He was almost lost due to food poisoning, but thankfully he was a tough little dude and held on. His father was brutally killed to ensure his survival and the survival of this own. His other father and birth mother were mentally and physically tormented by a nutcase who wanted to see the world remade in her design. They were able to survive that and find laughter and peace at last only to come to this point. The final wrong...

Neva's eyes moved to Daryl. "I'm so sorry..."

"No." Daryl shook his head. "No, there's gotta be a mistake. You're makin' a mistake."

"I wish to God I were, but—'"

"There's gotta be something you can do," Daryl begged. "Please, anything! There has to be some way! Some—something you haven't—haven't already..." his voice trailed off. There was nothing. He knew there was nothing. They had done everything within their ability to do.

"I can't properly analyze what happened, but I suspect it was her heart," Neva explained what she believed to be the cause of death, but Daryl toned her out, and she could see nothing was getting through to him, so she stopped trying. It would be best to give him time.

Denise removed the breathing bag, carefully pulling the tube from Carol's throat, setting them down on the table beside her. She carried herself out of the room with Neva behind her to give him a moment alone with her.

Daryl looked over the pale body of his soul mate, and the world seemed to halt in its very tracks. Her head was rolled to the side, her lips parted from having the tube removed, and she lied motionless. She would never move again. She would never smile at him again. She would never kiss him again or stroke his hair or...or just be with him, in his arms, warm and giggly. Never again. All of those things were memories now. His memories, and they wouldn't be anything else ever again.

"I love you..."

His hands balled into fists, and his heart began to race, began to pound and thrash against its cage of bone, and he wanted to see the world burn for this. He had known bliss. He had known unconditional love and support and acceptance. He had known so much that he didn't even know half of it exists and now all of it was dead. It was out of his reach, and he would never have access to its abundance again. He'd never...know all that she was to him again. The sole purpose of his life had faded out before his very eyes, and the world had lost all color. The world had lost all meaning and purpose. He had lost all point. He was nothing... Empty. Hollow. Numb. Nothing. There was nothing...

But in the distance, in the back of his mind, a whisper in his ear. A howl. A shrill howl that called to him, that beckoned him, and his fists unclenched as reality settled in around him, a thin fervent blanket on his shoulders.

Greyson was wailing from the other room, Maggie had bathed him and dressed him the cute little outfit she had found for him, but he wouldn't stop crying. Glenn had prepared formula for him, and they tried to feed him, but he wouldn't take it. He didn't want them. He wanted nothing to do with them or the bottle. His little face was red as a tomato, and there wasn't a thing they could do, because he wouldn't let them do anything.

Daryl appeared in the doorway as Michonne now tried to hush the newborn, but his wails only grew. Michonne looked up when Daryl's shadow was cast over her, and Daryl took the baby from her with the snuggest of care. Greyson didn't stop crying, and Michonne was about to clog her ears when Daryl reached into the bag that contained Greyson's clothes and diapers Daryl had packed prior to Carol going into labor, pulling out the blanket Carol had made for him. Daryl wrapped his son up in the blanket that smelled of his mother and rocked him, and Greyson grew quiet.

Glenn handed him the bottle, and Greyson eagerly accepted it. The entire room relaxed and watched as Daryl comforted his son, but all too soon the precious image of a father feeding his child crumbled as tears rolled down Daryl's cheek. He shuddered and his face scrunched up in anguish, and Maggie looked back at the doorway he had come through.

"She's gone," was all Daryl could say.

A day so sweet with life had been spoiled by death, and it reminded them all of the bittersweet birth of Judith. Rick had to excuse himself to get air and collapsed on the porch to his knees, burying his face in his hand, and he heard feet hurrying over to him. Carl and Enid had been playing nearby with Judith, and Carl ran to his father, embracing him and asking what had happened. They comforted each other while Enid held Judith in her arms and kissed her temple, trying to hold herself together at Rick's strained words.

Inside the house, Michonne curled up on the floor and became so small there against the wall, Glenn coiled up beside the armchair, his face buried in his arms, and Morgan said a silent prayer, holding strong to his staff. The room was silent save for the sound of muffled sobbing.

Maggie stood in Carol's room with her body, her knees weak, her hands shaking. She placed one foot in front of the other until she was at her side, and Maggie drank in her features. Her face fell as tears broke free, and she reached down to take her hand, falling into the chair behind her. She held Carol's hand in both of hers and wailed as deeply and as loudly as Carol's son had moments ago in the other room.

––

Greyson was fast asleep at home in his own bed and his mom's handmade blanket still with him, her scent cradling him in his dreams, and Maggie stayed with the newborn. The news of Greyson's birth, 6 pounds, 2 ounces spread around town like a wildfire, and so did the news of Carol's passing. A heavy burden blanketed the town that evening. The kids were silent for their parents, the parents were pale in their seats, and Carol's family was distraught. They were being torn apart from the inside, and no one knew how to seek, let alone find, comfort. This massive hole wouldn't be consoled.

Denise and Tara were lying back to back in bed, and they hadn't said a word to each other since the news had gotten to them. Denise had been there firsthand and couldn't breathe. She could only sob. She didn't know how to ease Tara's pain when she was drowning in her own, but Tara couldn't stand to hear her sobs anymore. She rolled over and held her tightly, telling her to her to let go, to let it out. That was the only way healing could enter.

Michonne hadn't moved from her spot on the floor, Rick joined her along with Carl, and Carl wrapped his arms around Michonne, reaching for his dad's hand, and they clutched each other. They mourned the loss of a mother figure, of a best friend, a of solider, of a damn good woman together. Their pain linking up and flowing through them and pouring out in the form of tears and snot and shivers. Grief wasn't a stranger to any of them, but they had each other. They would survive this together. As they always had.

Sasha and Abraham dug a grave for Carol and made a headstone for her using the leftover wood from Glenn's pile. Abraham glazed it so the weather wouldn't destroy it, and they left it there for the funeral. Sasha found herself by the pond once more when her work was done, and Abe stood by her side. They didn't say anything. They didn't need to speak. They simply...listened to the stillness of the night and the rippling of the water and felt the sorrow of a family member passing away.

Rosita and Morgan left town. They didn't say where they were going, only taking some food items and leaving in the night. Morgan assured Rick they would be back, but they couldn't be there right now. Everyone mourned in their own ways, and this felt right to them. They would honor Carol in some way out here and remember the remarkable woman that she was. They would find their peace and come back when the torrent waves of loss weren't so pounding.

Glenn and Enid sat in the living room of Daryl's home. Enid was curled up on the couch with her puppy and a blanket, having cried herself to sleep; the fireplace casting dancing light along the room, and Glenn fed it another log, sitting close by. His eyes were dry from his tears, his throat sore and distended, and he had nothing left in him. Maybe in the coming weeks he would be able to reclaim himself, but there was nothing now. It was dark and frozen here now. He couldn't expect anything else.

As for Daryl, he...was still in the clinic in Carol's room. He had...to be the one to ensure she wouldn't come back. It had to be him. He had been by her side this entire time now that Greyson was calm and fed, and he didn't know how to leave it. He didn't know how to leave her. He had vowed he would never do that. He had threatened Rick doing it, nearly kicked his ass for doing it, and he nearly lost his mind at Carol trying to leave. He didn't know how to handle it. He wasn't sure he was processing it. He was simply...there in her room with her, his favorite knife stuck in the wall with Carol's blood on the blade. He wanted nothing to do with it ever again. It was no longer a favorite. It was just a reminder. One he didn't want. One he couldn't forgive himself for.

He stood up, sliding his hands under her shoulders and under her knees, lifting her up and off the bed. She was so heavier in his arms than he remembered her ever being. Back at the prison when he found her in solitude, he carried her back to their cell block. She was as light as a feather then from their lack of food in the past few months, and she rested her head on his shoulder, looking up at him and smiling weakly once before dropping her head back on his shoulder. That was the first time he held her. If he had known how precious what he was holding was he wouldn't have let go.

He carried her through the house, passing family members and managing to make his way outside. He squinted at the sunlight and adjusted her in his arms, inhaling deeply. The scent of flowers caught his attention, and he pretended not to notice, because the last time she smelled of flowers ,they were happy. They had just been married, and everything was fantastic. Everything was whole and made sense. The world had since then crumbled and rapidly became nonsensical. He wasn't sure he'd understand it ever again.

"What are you doing?" This came from Michonne who hurried after him. Her voice was layered with emotional heaviness. Her words were raw.

"Buryin' her," he strained.

"All by yourself?" She neared him. "You won't let us say goodbye to her?"

"What's there to say goodbye to?" he challenged.

"Don't act like it's just a body, because we both know Carol was a lot more to all of us than just that." She gripped his shoulder and forced him to turn around and meet her eyes. "You're not burying her."

"Why delay it?"

"Because everyone who can't string two thoughts together because of her death needs to say goodbye and be with people who love them and more importantly who loved Carol. We all deserve a chance to say goodbye to her, and Greyson should see his mother one last time."

"I don't want to see this anymore." He gestured to the body in his arms. "I can't."

She set her hands on his cheeks as grief overcame him. "You don't have to look alone, Daryl. We'll do this together." She dropped an arm to overlap his under Carol's body. "We'll do it together. I promise." She soothed him as his head hung, and he broke down once more.

– – –

Denise and Maggie made up Carol's body to be buried, carefully arranging flowers around her hair to cover the knife mark on her temple, putting her once more in the beautiful gown Spencer had given to them and wrapping her in a white sheet.

Nearly the entire town came to her funeral, Gabriel said a lovely, heartfelt prayer for the departed mother and the young son and heartbroken father, and Glenn and Daryl lowered her body down into the grave. Slowly, cautiously, minding the rope so that her body evenly landed in the dirt, and one by one their family gently tossed in dirt to cover her body. Maggie cradled Greyson in her arms, waiting until the entire grave had been filled and placing a white rose on top of the flower—from a child to his mother.

People began to drift away until it was just Daryl, Maggie, Glenn, Enid and Greyson at her grave. Maggie hand given Greyson to Glenn, and she spoke to Daryl, but he didn't seem to hear her. His eyes didn't even leave the grave, and she decided to let him be. She wrapped an arm around Enid's shoulder and was about to leave when he called to her.

"Yeah?" She spun around.

"I'll be...by tonight to take Greyson," he rasped.

"Daryl...we can take care of him for however long you need. It's not a problem. We love havin' him around." She didn't want him to take on too much at once.

"You have your own baby to worry about." He faced her, eyes red and swollen. "I'll get him tonight."

"Are you sure you can do this?" She didn't doubt his ability, only his mental state.

"I'm sure that I need to be with my son," he remarked. "I promised Carol I would always be by his side, and I always will be." And just like his son needed Carol's blanket to not cry, Daryl needed Greyson to just survive.

"Okay. We'll have his bag ready."

"Thank you." He faced the grave once more, and it wasn't until they were gone that his strength fled him. He fell to his knees before the freshly disturbed earth and the newly plucked flowers, his face burrowing into his face as his entire body quaked. He couldn't contain any of it. He had...nothing to stop now, and it came loose.

"I'm sorry," he sputtered at the blurry headstone. "I'm so sorry, Carol. God... I should have acted faster. I should...shoulda done somethin'! Anythin' to keep you safe, to keep you here. I tried—I tried—I thought I tried my best, but I didn't... I didn't. If I did, wouldn't you be here? Wouldn't you be here? Right here..with me now?" He whimpered.

"You always did everythin' right. You—you saved us, but I couldn't... I couldn't save you when it mattered, and...now I'll never be able to make it right. I'll never...see you again." He inhaled and choked on the air, coughing and raising his head. "I knew this could happen...and I hated Tobin for doin' this to you. I knew if giving birth took you away, I'd kill him, too, but... I can't breathe. I can't even breathe, Carol."

He cried out as if that would release the pain slamming against his chest, wave after wave, cementing itself there, never to be peeled away. He felt as though this was all he would be. A man made of tears and heartache. A broken man who truly could not be repaired. The hole that been inside of him since he realized how much Carol meant to him—the hole that created itself the first time he thought he lost her—was expanding and stretching, and soon it'd swallow him entirely. He would be nothing, and he couldn't stop that hole from spreading and engulfing him. The blades of loss sharpened with each passing moment, and he was too weak to stop it.

He leaned back on his legs, gripping his thighs and attempting to steady his breathing. He could only shudder and gasp, and he wiped at his face, the dirt mixing with his tears and smearing across his cheek. He felt the cold sting of his wedding ring and slammed his fisted hand down into the earth over and over. Part of him hoped the ring would break, because he didn't have the strength to take it off, yet he didn't want to see it anymore. Another part of him hoped it didn't, because death couldn't part what he and Carol had. He couldn't stroke her cheek or see her ardent smile, but he could feel it deep inside underneath all the black ice of her death.

He dug his nails into the grass and screamed. "Are you happy now?" He didn't know if God was real or not, or if he could hear him, but if he was real, he hoped he heard him. If not, it just felt damn good to scream. "You ruined her life and took her away from her son! You took her away from her second chance! She was happy! You couldn't just let her be happy! What—what is wrong with you? You started her life, and you just...you just ended it, you fucker!" He let out a loud, guttural roar and pounded his fists down onto the earth again. "Damn you. Damn you. Damn you! DAMN YOU!"

With each word, he lost more and more of his voice until only a frustrated roar escaped, and he curled up on the ground, pulling his legs to his chest. He felt something stick him in the thigh and shoved away any nearby sticks, but there was nothing there. He lowered his legs and noticed a bulge in his pocket. He dug it out and was prepared to chuck it across the cemetery away from him when he saw his name written on the tightly folded slip of paper.

He flattened the slip of paper to find a letter written in Carol's handwriting, and he ran his eyes over it, absorbing every curve of her words and every paragraph, soaking in the last of her he had in his hands.

Hey, Pookie, if you're reading this then I'm sorry. If you're reading this then the worst has happened. I hate to write that, it seems like such a cliché, but I couldn't think of any other way to word it. Nineteen hours into labor, and your brain is mush. You'll have to forgive me for that. And for leaving. I doubt I had much choice in the matter, but I am sorry. I didn't want to leave you.

You are the best thing that ever happened to me. From the very first day that we met, you changed everything. It continued on after I lost my baby girl, and you stood by my side through it—through everything. When I need you, there you are, even when I don't know I need you. You are my saving grace, the love of my life, my actual soul mate. You are everything that ever made sense and that could ever bring me an abundance of joy in the darkest times of our lives. You have saved me in more ways than one and helped me to save myself. When all the fire consumed who I was, you were there to remind me of the best parts the flames left behind. I never thanked you for that, so thank you.

I've been wandering down dim roads and resting in dangerous places, because I didn't care what happened to me. I was ready to die a few times, because I had had my fill of this world and all it had taken away from me. I was done. I couldn't do it anymore. I saved our family, but it was killing me to do that. I didn't think I would be able to survive all that pain, but I did it. I managed to overcome it and have...real happiness for months. I was able to enjoy being pregnant and bringing a life into this world. I was able to savor every moment I had with Greyson and not hate it, not regret it. I was able to accept my circumstances and be more than satisfied with them. We had love, you and I, and it was genuine. It was precious, and as long as you breathe, Daryl Dixon, it won't die. Hell, maybe it never will. To feel as I do about you, I don't know how in the world it could fade.

You're sleeping right now, snoozing away at my side, and it's...peaceful. I'm filled with peace, too, watching you. You're so beautiful and brave and unyielding. You're the type of man I always wanted but didn't feel I deserved. You're the man that I would wish to have more time with, more lives with. You and me and Greyson and Sophia. Our family. What I wouldn't give to see Sophia raised alongside Greyson, her little brother, with you there to help me guide them. A perfect daydream. I'd give anything, but I suppose I already gave up a lot.

Now isn't the time for daydreaming anyway, is it? I'm gone now, and our son needs a guide. He needs you. He'll always need you, so I need you to be strong. Stronger than you've ever been before, and I know you can do it. Daryl, you have an abyss of strength inside of you. You just haven't dived all the way into it, but I know you will, and our son will learn that strength by example. He'll learn from you all the things you wanted to teach him and the all the things we had to teach him. It's okay if you mess up here and there, that's how parenting can be, and don't worry, he'll forgive your mistakes. You need to forgive his, too, and you'll know which ones need that forgiveness when and if they come. Trust your gut, because...it's your best lead. And don't forget to involve your heart, too. You have to balance out hard and soft, tough love and just plain old love. It's...awful, but you'll love it. You'll love him, and you'll take care of him. Raise him and be his dad. You'll do great no matter what path you take as a father. There's no way you could fail as a parent, with or without me, because you've been a parent to kids before and an older brother. It's difficult and loaded with struggles and tears and arguments, but at the end of the day, you have a best friend and someone to survive for.

Speaking of surviving, I know how you feel right now. I know how you can't breathe, how the agony is spreading from your heart down to your limbs, and nothing is right. It's overwhelming and yet so empty. It's like the moon and the tides inside of you, and I'm not asking you to bottle that up. I want you to work through it, but please, Daryl, please don't do it alone. We have family who love you and would never judge you. You have Michonne and Denise. You have so many people behind you, and I want you to turn to them, lean on them, because you need that support now more than ever. I know how much you love me and how deep a hole this is digging inside of you, so for your sake reach out. Maggie is always there to listen, and Glenn is ready to talk. You know that people love you and want you to be okay. It'll take time, years maybe, but you'll get there, and you'll have Greyson. You'll have a tangible piece of me with you always. Remember all of the good times when you see him. Remember our love when you hold him. Forget all of the bad and all of the regrets, because this is how...everything was meant to be. It's grievous and heart-rending, and I wish that I could be there with you so we could burn this letter and hold each other, but I can't be. I won't ever be again, and...it's devastating to consider, but I have to go there, because it's your reality now.

It's getting harder to write this, and I can't see with tears in my eyes, so if the letters overlap, that's why. I want you to know that I will always be with in any way that I can. I will always love you and our son and our family with everything I have left. I am honored to be your wife and to leave mine and Tobin's son with you, because blood or no, marriage or no, he's yours. His love for you will only grow, and you will always be his dad. You'll always be my husband and my pookie. You'll always be a good man.

Here is where I leave you in ink and paper but never in spirit and love. There, I am always with you.

A cool breeze smacked him square in the jaw, drying his tears and blowing through his hair, and for a moment...one delirious moment he could have sworn he smelled Carol and felt her lips on his forehead. He closed his eyes to relish the illusion before it was gone, remembering all the times Carol had kissed his forehead, and he quivered when he thought he felt her small hand on his shoulder.

He forced air into his lungs and opened his eyes to his new life, and he stood up, holding the letter in his hands. He folded it carefully, placing it inside the pocket of his vest over his heart, and he set his hand over, gripping it then letting his hand fall. He mustered up all his strength and walked towards home. He walked towards where his son was waiting for him.


	42. Epilogue: Weightless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Going into this chapter there are various time jumps, which are told by three dashes, which signify large jumps, and the two dashes signify smaller jumps. There are hints of how much time in each segment, but I just wanted to give a head ups. I have had this ending in my mind before I even started this story, and I'm quite taken with it.

There's a funny thing about dying; some people fear it, yet there are some lucky few who embrace it. Funny as that might be to embrace death, to embrace the finality of the end. How brave you must be, just like her, but it wasn't the end she was embracing, not really. No, she was embrace the peace of it, that quiet goodnight, the softness there. That's why she was happy, that's why she wore a smile. She embraced death as an old friend, and was wrapped in peace like a blanket wraps a child, like this very blanket wraps you...

Light streamed in through the window, a soft cotton haze over the living room, and steam rolls up from the cup of "coffee" resting on the table beside the couch. Calling it coffee was too kind, but it did the job well enough. Greyson was wiggling, looking up with those big, blue eyes of his mother's, smiling for no other reason than to simply smile. Such a delicate new to this world smile filled the air with such unadulterated purity and genuine innocence—raw joy. There as nothing in this world that could compare to that smile. That damn, precious smile made getting out of bed so worth it.

Daryl had just finished changing his diaper, and he was now applying a bit of cream Denise had made to his bum, the cold ointment warming between his palms as he rubbed them together, the scent of herbs and perhaps lavender rising up to his nose as it always did when he used it. He looked down at Greyson with his white covered palms, soaking in his entire being and basking in the beauty there. There was the whole reason for all of it, that little smile that was what poets surely wrote about. Surely, how it not be? It was all the good and beautiful things in the world, right here wearing that smile and those eyes that reflected back at him a woman who he loved beyond this mortal coil.

He cleaned his hands now that Greyson was changed and pampered up, adjusting the pile of pillows for support on his back as he kicked his legs over the arm of the couch, making a little slouched seat on his thighs for Greyson. He set him carefully down and smiled at him.

"Good morning," he said as he always did to his son, who burbled at him and reached for him with both hands. He happily clasped both little hands in each of his hands and chuckled, releasing a sorrowful sigh. "Baby boy..."

I wish I could say it all happened for the best. I wish I could say it all made sens now, that it was all okay and settled. The wounds no longer ached. That would be me lying. It hasn't settled. It's not okay. I wish every day she was here with you and with me, and I wish begging and pleading and screaming would work and bring her back to us, but I know it's not possible. It's just you and me. My brother always used to say that to me—it's just you and me—and it always felt like the most comforting thing in the world, but hearing it now...being the one to say that it, I know now how bitter and awful it felt on his tongue. It tasted of bad luck and rust and sour. "It's just you and me, Greyson, and that's okay. Well...maybe not "okay", but we'll make it okay. Every day we'll make it more and more better. We'll make the most of just "you and me", and you and me are going to be okay one day."

Greyson's little lips curled upward in another toothless, gummy smile, and Daryl felt a shudder course through him at those blue eyes shining up at him.

"Yeah, that's right." His voice broke as tears rolled down his cheeks. "We'll make every...single...day better. We ain't gonna be consumed by nothin'."

– – –

Maggie stood outside the home, the breeze brushing hair into her face, and she knew it was time to sit down with Enid for a new hair cut, but she hadn't had time with the planning for the future and her own future growing inside of it. Three months now, and this little bundle was making itself known to the world. She already had quite the bump on her, and Glenn couldn't keep his hands off it. Neither could Enid. It brought such joy to her heart. Her precious, ever growing family. She couldn't survive without them and the warmth they provided her. Hmmm.

"Out here again?" Michonne held Judith's hand as they walked through the streets together.

"Yeah." Maggie nodded, hands in her cardigan pocket, and she squinted at the sun hitting her eyes when she turned her head to meet Michonne's gaze. "Always gonna be out here till he shows up."

"He hasn't come out since that first week," Michonne commented. "Only Denise gets in."

"You never know." She shrugged. "That's my godson, and I'm gonna be here when Daryl's ready."

"You have your own baby to worry about."

"She's strong," Maggie commented, her gaze moving back to the house that belonged to Daryl, the house where he and Carol lived as man and wife. The house where they should be living as man and wife, father and mother, grandfather and grandmother, but the world was too cruel for that, wasn't it? "She'll be fine."

"She?" Michonne smirked. "You're sure it's a girl?"

"I can feel it." She pulled a hand out of her pocket and set it on her stomach, smiling softly. "She's...like Beth in a weird way. There's...this feeling of utter closeness and connection I felt with Beth that I feel with this baby, and it's not a mother-child bond. It's...more."

"All right." Michonne smiled. "I have my own children to catch up on, so if you'll excuse me Carl asked me to Section Eight."

"Ooh, be careful there. Jesus and Morgan were dealing with the mud holes last night."

"We'll be careful. Won't we, Judy?" She looked down at her daughter.

Judy nodded with balled fist. "Careful."

Maggie chuckled. "Okay, go get 'em, Ass Kicker."

"Ass Kicker." Judy was dead serious and then giggled at her own words. "Go, go, go!"

"All right, go, go, go." Michonne chuckled and picked Judith up on her back, adjusting her legs through her arms. "Off we go. Hold on tight!" She darted off towards Section Eight.

Maggie stroked her belly and looked over at the door, pressing her lips together and sighing softly at the lack of movement inside the house. Daryl hadn't come out since the first week of Greyson's birth. He didn't let anybody in but Denise for check ups. Sometimes Neva, but that was only if Denise couldn't make it. It was discouraging. They all worried for him and wanted him to be okay, but he kept himself locked away. Him and Greyson. They had no clue what that baby looked like anymore. It'd been a long three months, and they could only imagine how that precious bundle looked. And it would appear they would keep on imagining...

––

Daryl rocked a crying Greyson in his arms, rubbing his back and bobbing him up and down carefully, his muscles moving on their own as his feet paced back and forth along the length of the living room. He didn't know what had him so upset. He had fed him, burped him, changed him. He didn't have a fever or anything; he was healthy, but not so happy. Daryl didn't understand. What was it he wanted so badly?

He picked up the blanket from the couch and wrapped it around Greyson, and Greyson began to calm. He chuckled and leaned against the back of the couch. "I should've known." He stroked his cheek with the soft blanket. "Don't smell like her anymore, though, does it?"

Four months old today. Daryl had been keeping track with the calendar Carol had kept, and he was planning on celebrating that mark tonight. He had a lot of plans for it, and he knew Greyson would love all of them. It would be a big evening, but he would finally get to meet all of his family. He had heard their voices and seen their pictures for months now, but now it was time for introductions. It was long overdue.

"You got a godmama out there who's dyin' to meet you." He looked over at the window where he knew Maggie was. He sighed and stood up. "Why not meet her now, eh? You're...tough. You ain't gonna get sick or nothin'. You're strong, like your mama."

Greyson hiccuped and nuzzled his head into Daryl's chest.

Daryl opened the front door and stepped outside, Maggie instantly moved forward at the sight of movement, and they met halfway. Daryl smiled shyly at her, and Maggie covered her mouth with her hand as tears filled her eyes. Daryl adjusted Grey so she could see his entire face, and Maggie couldn't resist crying at that precious little boy in his arms. He was a heart thief for sure. He had beautiful dark blonde curls, the same sapphire eyes of his mother, the same light skin and gentle smile. He had hints of Tobin that showed through, like his nose and jaw. God, he was beautiful.

"Here." Daryl handed him over to her carefully, and the moment Greyson was out of his arms, he began to wail. "Oh, no, no." Daryl frowned, not understanding why he as crying. He was so good with Denise and Tara. Why was he upset?

"It's okay." Maggie soothed. "I'm your Aunt Maggie, Greyson. It's okay. I'm family, and God, do I love you. Precious boy."

Greyson began to calm as she spoke, snuffling and gasping for air as he looked up at her.

"Shh."

Daryl relaxed and smiled. "He knows your voice."

"'Course he does." Maggie stroked his soft, light hairs. "I talked to him all the time in the womb."

"Smart boy." Daryl kissed the top of his head when Maggie moved her hand.

"He is." She turned a glare on him. "And you're not. What the heck were you thinkin' these last four months? Lockin' yourself away? And him? Away from people who love and care about you and would have done anything and everything to help you through this trying time?"

Daryl frowned again. "I—It wasn't like that."

"Then how was it like? Why is this only the fifth time I'm holding him in his entire four months of life? Why has half the town never even seen him? Do you know how upset Francine is? Tobin was a good friend to her, and she wanted to meet Greyson, spoil him, and she hasn't even gotten to hold him. Ever. Not to mention how upset Rick and Michonne and everyone in our family is. We...all lost Carol, and it's been so hard to heal from her loss. It's worse than anything I've felt in a long time, because she was always there. This unwavering protective force was gone from us, and the precious bundle she left behind felt stolen away from us. We were so worried about Greyson and about you, because it felt like we lost all three of you. I couldn't handle that, so...I waited out here for even a glimpse of either of you." Her eyes softened, and her voice was thick. "Daryl, we love you, okay? We are always here for you. You never have to hide away from us. If you need space, you only have to ask, but please, don't lock yourself inside that house again. I don't think anyone can bear to see you in such pain that you...can't even function outside that house."

He smiled softly. "Mag, it wasn't entirely like that. The first couple of weeks? Yeah, I couldn't even get out of bed for myself. I...couldn't eat or think or breathe, but I had Greyson who needed me, and Denise was right there, too. She and Tara helped me through most of the pain, and...while I don't think I'm really breathing easier, I still am breathing. I know I worried a lot of you guys, but it wasn't like I shut out the world for three months just because. Carol and I...made plans for after his birth, and we wanted to wait until he was four months old before he took him. Just in case."

"You...oh." She blushed somewhat and adjusted Greyson. "You coulda had Denise tell us that!"

"My bad, that was crippling depression over the loss of my wife. I wasn't really thinkin' 'bout y'all."

She lowered her eyes. "I'm sorry."

"Me, too." He spoke softly and sighed, sitting down on the steps to his house, running a hand through his hair. "I...I'm not okay, not by a long shot, but he needs me to be okay, so I'm tryin'. I really am."

"I know." She sat beside him, adjusting Greyson on her lap, and he played with her necklace, trying to chew on it.

Daryl leaned forward, pulling his legs up and shaking his head. "I don't know how people do it." His voice broke. "I...lost the best part of me, and...I don't like what's left, Maggie. She made this part of me bearable, because she was there to force me to see it was good, it was strong, but...now it's all dark. It's sharp edges, and she's not here to make it better, to make me better, and I don't know what that leaves of me. I...miss her more than air or food or sleep or...anything." He dragged his hands through his hair as tears streamed from his eyes, and he couldn't stop the weight crushing him to nothingness. "It hurts so much. How is this ever going to get better?"

Maggie set a hand on his shoulder and compressed it, hard to try and get him to focus on anything other than the emotional pain drowning him. "I know how that feels. I've lost my entire family to this world; I lost my baby to it, but I'm still here. I'm...happy and loved and okay with how things are. I've hated and cursed this world and the people in it, but it made me feel no better. It...pushed away the people who love me and wanted to aid me through all of the agony, and that wasn't okay. That hurt as much as the losses, but...I let them in. I gave myself another chance, and...it's not as simple as just saying it; it's difficult. It's an every day process, but eventually you can breathe again. You can...live again, and all the losses and all the pain are just ...a part of you. As irremovable as your lungs from your chest, but that's okay, too."

"How is it ever okay?" He looked at her.

"Because you have this beautiful being filled to the brim with Carol's love and soul. He...will keep her alive in this world with us, and you'll always be reminded of her spirit through him. It's not enough, but you didn't lose her entirely." She wrapped her arm around Greyson's stomach and placed her chin on the top of his head. "She's here, too."

He chuckled humorlessly and rubbed at his cheeks, exhaling. "You're right—it's not enough."

"I know, but...he's enough. More than enough." She smiled at him. "He's precious and sweet, and he loves you. He needs you."

He sniffed, looking down at his son in her lap. "I need him, too. Without him, there's no point to anything."

She smiled sorrowfully. "That's not true. There's always a point."

"Carol was the point," he confided. "After everyone we lost...after everyone who ever meant anything to me died...she was the point, the driving force that kept me sane and alive. She wasn't...supposed to go. She wasn't supposed to leave me..."

"I know you don't believe in God or Heaven, and it might not be a comfort, but I know God has her with Him. And there's no way she wasn't right here with you, always. Her soul...whatever is left of it that isn't in this baby boy is with you always. That's how much she loved you. It...extends beyond bodies and life." She removed her hand. "Come with me."

"Where?"

"You know where." She stood up and supported Greyson from underneath his legs, extending her hand out to help Daryl stand.

He swallowed and accepted her hand, standing up, and she smiled at him. For a moment he saw Beth in that smile, and his chest ached at all that little girl hoped and loved and believed. She tried to show it all to him, but he wouldn't have it. He wouldn't make that mistake twice. Whatever Maggie wanted to show him, he would more than see it; he would experience it and take it to heart. He owed that to Carol and to Beth. He owed it to himself and to his son.

Maggie took him home. Everyone in their family was waiting on them—Glenn had spotted them outside on the porch and rounded everyone up—and everyone took a part of Daryl's pain as their own. Michonne embraced him and kissed his cheeks, giving him a teary smile and a look in those dark eyes that spoke more love and acceptance than he felt he deserved. Rick hugged him tightly, not letting go when it went beyond embarrassing and made Daryl feel like he was ten years old. He couldn't keep the tears from his eyes and fell to his knees when Rick finally released him. Glenn and Sasha went to him, Glenn set a hand on his shoulder then wrapped it around his shoulder and sideways hugged him as he wailed, and Sasha wrapped her arms around him from behind. Rosita moved to his other side and set a hand over his on the floor, and Enid dropped in front of him, hugging him and letting him cry into her shoulder. His sobs were so powerful they took the four of them who wrapped around him like a blanket of affection and comfort and acceptance to sooth him. It was warm there and forgiving, and Daryl wasn't crying for the emptiness in his soul; he was...mourning. He was...letting go for the first time since Carol's eyes shut. He...was moving forward, and it wasn't cold. It wasn't terrifying. It wasn't...isolated; it was fervent and hopeful and...home. It was family and beautiful, and he...he deserved it. He did. He deserved it. He told himself so over and over as the darkness tried to take him away from that truth. Carol had told him he was worthy and deserved love and forgiveness their entire relationship, fuck the darkness that tried to take that away. He wouldn't let it. He never would let it again.

Once Daryl had calmed down to sputtering gasps and hiccups, Eric gently adjusted him on the couch and hung his head, covering his eyes with a warm washcloth and stroking his hair like he did with Eli when she was upset. Daryl soon was able to breathe and the swelling in his eyes from his tears reduced, and Eric smiled at him when he removed the cloth.

The first thing he saw beyond that was Greyson playing with Judith and Eli, Enid and Maggie and Michonne were with them, Aaron was taking some pictures, and Carl brought down some toys from his room that Greyson could play with that weren't chewed on dolls—Eli's doing. She liked to chew things, Aaron and Eric had discovered, and they were looking into getting her something healthy to chew on. Abraham and Eugene were currently on a run, and Abe had promised to look for something for the girl. Sasha guilted him into it, but they'd take it.

"He's beautiful," Rick sat beside Daryl on the couch. "He looks just like her."

"He does," Daryl found himself saying, though he didn't recognize his own voice. It was strained and raw, sounding almost like sandpaper being scratched.

"Judy and Eli already adore their new playmate," Eric commented, folding the towel.

Daryl smiled a little. "Good. He...needs some friends."

Glenn and Carl were trying to get Greyson to play with the less damaged toys, and Greyson looked overwhelmed by all the options. Carl sat down beside Greyson and placed his toy by his feet, and Glenn just held back to wash him look at it and reach for it in intrigue. Aaron didn't miss taking a photo of Glenn lovingly observing the boy while Maggie laced her fingers together around his forearm, leaning against his shoulder to look on at their beautiful godson.

"Excuse me." Eric joined the group of babies and adults when Eli started to grab Greyson by the face. He wasn't worried she'd hurt him, but he was curious, so was Eli apparently. "Easy."

Eli wasn't used to this new face, and they watched as she brought Greyson's face closer, eyes so serious and trained on his face, and she blew a spit bubble at him. Greyson could only blink, and Eli giggled. She let him go and fell back laughing into Enid's thigh, Judith looked up at the noise, and Greyson's little face went pink as he began to cry.

"Hey, it's okay." Glenn scooped him up, standing up and rubbing his back. "It's all good, Grey." He smiled at him and could have sworn Carol was looking back at him as he began to calm. He swallowed hard and held him closer. I miss you, he thought to himself as he did so, closing his eyes. And I'll protect your son to my dying breath, I swear to you. I swear to you, Carol.

"Greyson!" came Francine's voice...

– – –

It had been five weeks since that lovely day where healing truly began for the entire family, Maggie would often be found playing outside with Greyson on the porch, and Daryl would be sitting on the railing, seen fiddling with some small, shiny object as he swung his leg over the railing. Michonne and Rick would drop by to check in on baby and dad weekly, Glenn and Enid would take Greyson out to see the new sections they were building, and Sasha would tell Greyson of the effort they were putting into building Section Eight and Five. Francine would explain the mistake of building Eight instead of Four, so they had to go with the original name instead of having it make any sense. Aaron and Eric would show Eli and Grey around the already built town, introducing them to the newcomers that Rosita and Maggie showed the ropes. Everyone would flock to the babies, as if they had never seen one before, and it made them relax to see life flourishing here. It became a part of their routine when showing around newcomers. Judith joined them when Abe found and repaired a stroller that could carry four toddlers. Hell, it could fit Enid, and she sometimes rode around with them jokingly when Carl didn't preoccupy her time—well, Carl and her duties.

Carl and Enid came running by with a few other new kids to play soccer in the new field Glenn and Francine had prepared, Rosita was sitting on the porch of Maggie and Glenn's house with Greyson asleep in the car seat beside her in the shade with some Eugene-rigged fan on him so he didn't overheat and Sasha was walking by with Spencer. Sasha stopped and handed her gun over to him to put back and joined Rosita and the baby.

"You look glum." She sat down and set a hand on Grey's cheeks to be sure he wasn't overheating. The shade and fan were doing the trick so far, but it was summer in Georgia, so better safe than sorry.

"I have a good reason to be." She exhaled. "He's good. I'm keeping an eye on him."

"I know. I just...haven't spent a lot of time with him. I'm on the wall pretty much every day. I need some Greyson time, too." She smirked and gently rocked the car seat.

"He's...like a lump." Rosita exhaled. "I don't get how people want one of him."

"I wouldn't mind having one of him," Sasha stated. "One of these days, but not now. I...have too many responsibilities to worry about a child."

"You and Abe?" She scoffed. "Better hope it doesn't get any of his looks."

Sasha didn't let that bug her. "Alexandria is a home where people can settle down and have families. We...are a safe haven, and it's okay to be human and resume life here. That's the entire purpose of this town. Home and security and the future. It's a new realm of possibilities. Don't sneer at someone's hope and future."

"I'm not sneering." The growl in her words nearly bit Sasha right in the face.

"What crawled up your butt and died?" Sasha demanded. "You're not usually this bitter, but you're making an extra effort today, so why? Is it because of me? Or me and Abe? Because I thought you made peace with that."

"I did, and this has nothing to do with either of you. This is my life being a fucked up disaster where nothing is fair or makes any kind of sense, because I am a fuck up!" She snapped and instantly regretted it, because it woke Greyson and he began to wail at the sharp hiss in her words. "Look at what you made me do." She picked him up out of the car seat and cradled him, standing to rock him with her steps.

"I didn't make you do anything, but...I am worried." Sasha was on her feet and gently grasped her arm. "What happened? You're clearly not okay."

Rosita didn't answer, just hugged baby Grey closer and kissed his forehead. He smelled so good. He was little angelic ball of innocent energy and trust, and it broke her heart that someone could come and ruin that part of him. She couldn't stand to let that happen. This world was so dark and messed up, and she couldn't stand to let him suffer as they had suffered, but it would happen. That's just how this world was with all things, and she couldn't bear to let that happen to...

"Rosita..." Sasha saw tears in her eyes, and she exhaled softly. "You're pregnant, aren't you?"

Rosita rolled her eyes and released a shaky breath. "Yeah, okay, I am."

"...when did you...? Who did you...?" She couldn't collect her thoughts. "Do you even want to talk about it?"

"No." She messed with Greyson's curls. "Yes. Maybe." She tilted her head back and laughed. "I don't even know. God, I'm a mess."

"Who's the father?"

"Eugene." Rosita snorted at Sasha's wide-eyed, open-mouthed, disbelieving expression and busted out laughing genuinely for the first time in far too long. She had to put Greyson down in his car seat and hold her stomach to keep her balance. She lowered herself down to her knees and looked up at Sasha when the laughter subsided. "I needed that. Your face... priceless."

"Well, at least you're laughing." She sat in front of her. "Seriously, Rosita, who?"

"Spencer." She adjusted the fan's neck to reach Greyson's face and peeked at Sasha. "I've been sleeping with him on and off since Abraham and I broke up, and I ended it, but apparently not soon enough."

"How long ago did you end it?"

"When Greyson was on his way was the last time. We made a gift basket for Carol, and we fucked around afterwards. I... It was more of a comfort thing than anything, and I don't regret it. We both needed to feel...something other than drowning in our own misery."

"Rosita, that was five months ago." Sasha frowned. "Is the baby okay? Are you okay?"

"I dunno. I... I wanted to talk to Neva, but I just stole some prenatal pills instead."

"Rosita, you've been on patrol and on the wall and out on runs since then. Why didn't you tell anybody?"

"Maybe I didn't want the baby," she whispered.

"That's bullshit!" She grabbed her arm and Rosita gasped as she jerked her arm hard. "You don't get to be selfish with this! This isn't about just you anymore, damn it. This is about that baby, too!"

"This world will ruin this baby, like it ruins everyone."

"We're making it so the world out there won't touch the lives were building in here. Can't you see that? Can't you...understand all the good we've done? All that we've overcome to keep this place safe and to keep it going?"

"So another Pentaghast or Wolf can come and take it? Another Gareth? Or—or Negan?"

"If they try, we'll stop them. We'll stop anyone who tries to knock our walls down." Sasha pulled her onto her feet. "You have people who care about you and don't want you to be in pain or see all the darkness all the time. You have Tara and Denise and Eugene. You have me!"

"We fucked the same guy. We have nothing more in common."

"We're family," Sasha retorted. "Like it or not, we are family, and I care about you. You deserve to be happy again, and I won't let you throw yourself away. Or this baby. I've been where you are now, and I won't let you...suffer through this alone. You and I will get through this together, and I don't care if you don't want me involved. I am, and I am not going anywhere. I don't run away anymore. Neither will you."

"I'm not running," Rosita weakly replied. "I don't have the energy for even that."

"Come with me." She picked up the car seat and guided Rosita towards the clinic, Rosita didn't fight, and she let go of her arm to hold her waist to keep her moving. She knew her brother would be this compassionate, and she wouldn't let such compassion die with him. She found renewed strength in this world, and the best parts of the old world, the best parts of people like her brother, would live on in her actions. There would be no more endings, only new beginnings, and she would work with Rosita to see that, too. She was still struggling, but she owed it to the good souls who were lost too soon to try every day to see that.

Denise took Greyson from his car seat and played with him now that he was awake and full of energy, Neva was in the middle of a checkup with Judith and Michonne. Judith was growing into a healthy, strong little lady, and Neva was so happy to see that during their checkup. Such a beautiful girl!

"Okay, we're done." Neva smiled at the child and mother. "She's...perfect. She's a good weight and height. She's learning and growing so fast."

Michonne smiled. "She is. Soon she'll be in school with the other kids."

"Making good grades, I hope."

Judith just shrugged and tried to jump off the gurney, Michonne caught her and set her on the ground and Judith ran over to Rosita and Sasha, smiling and dashing by to play with Denise and Greyson. Michonne chuckled and went after her, knowing whatever was going on with Sasha and Rosita wasn't her business, and Neva greeted them.

"What's wrong today?" Neva looked over Rosita. "Flu? Heat stroke?"

"Pregnancy." Sasha sat her down on the gurney. "Five months."

"Oh." Neva blinked. "I... Uh, congratulations. Let me get...uh, the necessary things."

Rosita lied down and sighed. "Don't."

Neva stopped. "I have to be sure the baby is healthy, Rosita."

"No, don't...congratulate me."

Sasha shook her head, and Neva nodded, returning to finding the set of items she put aside specifically for pregnancies. She just saw Maggie last week, so it had to be right here... Oh, wait, that's right. She moved them for Denise to have that space for Enid. She was joining them as an official doctor next week, and she had her own drawer now. Her name was on the door, too. Glenn had made it and showed it off when she graduated school. It was a touching father-daughter moment. It...warmed her heart.

"Okay." Neva slipped the blood pressure cuff onto Rosita's arm. "Let's do a check up on you first."

Rosita closed her eyes so they wouldn't see the tears there, Sasha grasped her hand, and Rosita almost snatched it back, but she didn't have the strength. She let Neva work on her—taking her blood pressure, checking her breathing and heart rate, so on—and Sasha held her hand the entire time. Her hand was this warm, persistent pressure on Rosita's, and it was so much more consoling than Sasha could ever know. She had pushed the world away these last few weeks, and for the world to yank her back...was reassuring and comforting. She didn't know how badly she needed it.

"Okay, now for baby." Neva rolled her shirt up, setting her hand on the mostly flat belly. She hmmed, and Rosita opened her eyes. "It's okay." She smiled. "I bet you're carrying high."

"What does that mean?"

"I've seen it with women the same build as you before. They carry the baby high, and the baby drops near the thirty-eighth week. Be lucky, you should be able to wear the same clothes until then." She squeezed out some cold gel onto Rosita's stomach. "It might mean you're having a boy, too, but no spoilers. Unless you want them."

Rosita didn't answer.

"All right. Let's take a look." She felt Rosita flinch when the probe made contact with the gel, and Neva looked over the monitor. She could hear the fluid, but she couldn't locate the heartbeat or even the baby. She didn't let her concern show as she skillfully searched for the signs of this baby.

With every passing second Neva could feel Rosita growing more and more tense as Neva didn't speak, and the only thing keep her from busting out of there was Sasha. Sasha was this unmoved force by Rosita's side, and she didn't let her emotions show in any way, and it kept Rosita grounded and still.

"Oh..." Neva let out a breath didn't know she was holding.

"What "oh"?" Rosita wasn't sure why she was crying, just only that she was crying and her throat hurt. It was dry and ached. She didn't like that.

"No spoilers." Neva turned the screen. "Here's the little hiding rascal."

Rosita's eyes fell to the screen to her baby all coiled up. "Fuck." It was...so big. How the hell was something so big inside of her? She... It... How?

"How far along is she?" Sasha inquired.

"Just a bit behind Maggie." She cocked her head to the side. "It's hard to tell at this angle. Baby's really not letting me see a whole lot, but I'm betting a few weeks behind Maggie."

"Can you tell the sex?"

Neva looked at Rosita. "Do you want to know?"

"Why not?" She couldn't stop crying to even process this conversation, so what the hell?

"I'm betting it's a boy, but he's hiding shyly up there, so I can't be sure. Carrying high tends to mean boys, so it's a 70 percent chance."

"Looks like Eli has another boy to blow spit bubbles on." Sasha smiled at Rosita.

"God, I need a drink." Rosita covered her eyes as best she could with her one hand.

"I have grape and prune, but that's all," Neva said in all seriousness. "You have to take care of your body now, Rosita. I know someone stole some prenatals, and that was likely you. That's a good first step, but you need to reduce stress and risk. I'll speak with Spencer about wall rotation for the next few months, and I'll speak with Rick about putting you in the garden. The air and soil will good wonders for you and any prenatal depression, and I'll be stopping by to be sure you're eating properly."

"Don't talk to Spencer." Rosita shot up. "Please, don't talk to him and tell him about this."

"Why not?" Neva undestood immediately after asking. "He's the father."

"No, he's the fuck buddy that knocked me up." Rosita wiped the gel of her stomach and tried to stand up.

"What...?"

All three women turned to find Spencer in the doorway with Heath, supporting a new member of their community—Toni—who appeared to have twisted her ankle while on duty at the construction site. He nearly dropped the woman who was relying on him for support to stand, and Heath felt that and took more of her weight on his end to keep her upright.

"Here, let me help you with her." Neva stood up, handing Rosita a cloth to wipe the gel off with, and Sasha went to aid Neva. They helped Toni and Heath into the clinic beds, closing the door behind them and tending to Toni's ankle.

"You're pregnant." Spencer didn't move any closer to her.

"Yes, I'm a few weeks behind Maggie, and it's probably a boy, and I'm sorry I fucked up." She stood up and wiped her fingers off. "Look, I won't ask—"

"Don't have you."

"What?" Rosita frowned. "Were those words?"

He chuckled. "I'm still in shock. I—You don't have to ask me for anything." He approached her now and clasped her hands, actually smiling. "You're pregnant?"

"We just covered that." She narrowed her eyes at him.

He embraced her. "Thank you."

"What?" She felt so purplexed and smothered. She didn't understand this reaction. The only people who should be this happy about being pregnant together were Maggie and Glenn. They were so not Maggie and Glenn, so what the hell was going on? Did they smoke pot in construction now?

"Yes, thank you." He released her. "You're giving me a reason to live again, Rosita. I've been searching for a reason—any reason—to wake up in the morning, and here it is." He grasped her hips, thumbs brushing over her belly. "I...always wanted to be a dad. I just...put it on a shelf when the world went to hell, but now... now I have a real chance to be a dad and to...find a place in this world again. I can teach..this baby all the lessons my parents taught me. They can live on through this baby and... Wow."

Rosita searched his face and saw only truth there. "You're really happy about this?"

"I've wanted to die for so long now," he was almost crying, "because this world and these people don't need me. I convinced myself that no one needed me, and I should die, but...now I can fight back against those voices. I... We'll have a baby, and that baby will need us. I can make up for my mistakes with my family, and with you, raise this baby to be strong and to survive this world."

"With me..."

His smile faded somewhat and his eyes found hers. "You don't want the baby?"

"I honestly don't know what to feel right now."

"How long have you known about this?" he suddenly asked. "And why didn't you tell me?"

"I wasn't sure that I was, and I didn't know how I'd handle it, let alone how you'd handle it. I couldn't handle either reaction so I put it off until...I let it slip with Sasha. She dragged me here, and now I know. Now we know, and don't lecture me on being smarter or coming here sooner, I really can't hear it right now."

"I won't as long as the baby's okay. Is the baby okay?"

"The baby is just fine," Neva answered, coming back for athletic tape. "It has a strong heart beat, a good length for its age, and it's definitely Rosita's child."

Spencer laughed. "Thank you, Neveah. Thank you so much."

"Don't thank me." She was swept up by his embrace all the same. "I have a bad back!"

"Sorry." He let her go and made sure she was all right before moving back to Rosita.

"Just be careful," Neva advised. "Rest often, eat well and take care of each other. That's an order."

"Of course. I'll move her into my place right away, and I'll take care of her needs." Spence beamed. "I have all kinds of books on pregnancies. My mom bought a crap ton when she was pregnant, and you can read them. I've read all the books she had, but I guess it'll come in handy now."

"Wait, wait." Rosita turned to him. "Move her in? Take care of her needs? Her is right here, and moving is a stressful time for people, so no. And we aren't a couple. We...fuck now and then, and it made a child because of biology and a broken, old condom."

"Rosita." He lost his smile. "I just want to take care of you and be there for you."

"And that's very kind, but we aren't Glenn and Maggie or Rick and Michonne or Daryl and Carol. I am my own person with my own life, and you are, too. We'll work out this baby stuff later, but don't push me into it. I need time to cope and...just accept that I'm carrying a child at all. I didn't plan this or want this, and I need time." She couldn't breathe. "I feel...overwhelmed right now. I mean, Carol had a baby, and now Maggie's pregnant, and now me. I feel like it's repopulate the earth time, and it's my turn on the dial. I can't...handle this right now."

"Okay."

"Okay?" Rosita met his eyes and gulped.

"Yeah, okay." He nodded. "Take your time. I want you to be happy, too, Rosita. I want you to have a reason to wake up in the morning, too. Friends or fuck buddies, I care about you. I always will."

"Thank you." She offered a smile. "For now, I just need time so...if you'll excuse me." She walked out of the clinic to think, and she wasn't sure where these new thoughts would take her, but she was in it for the long haul. She had...no choice, really.

– – –

Daryl tossed Greyson up into the air and caught him, spinning around and tossing him once more. Greyson laughed and asked for more, asked to go higher, and Daryl caught him by his armpits and whirled around until they were both dizzy and fell to the ground. Daryl made sure Greyson landed comfortably on his chest and laughed as Greyson giggled and asked to go again.

"Aah, no, I'm old. Let me catch my breath," Daryl panted.

"Peas, Daddy, peas." He looked at him with shining, pleading eyes.

Damn con artist at nine months, shit. "Daddy can't. Daddy's old."

"Daddy!" He pulled on his collar.

"Chokin' Dad ain't gonna help him," Daryl laughed.

Greyson giggled and looked over. "Gie!"

Maggie laughed and entered the gate. "Hi, sweetie." She was heavily pregnant now and couldn't bend over to pick him up like he wanted, but he liked to hug her belly all the same. She would sit down on the steps, and he could hug her belly and say gibberish to it oh-so sweetly. He just knew that little baby was his friend, and he loved her. It warmed Maggie's heart. He was such a lovey little guy.

"Maggie, tell him Dad's old and needs a break."

"You're out of shape, Dad," Maggie instead said, sitting down to let Greyson hear her belly and hug it. "I'm out of shape, too."

Daryl sat up. "You're in good shape for as pregnant as you are."

She glared somewhat. "I want this baby out of me. It's been almost ten months."

"It hasn't. Grey's only nine months." Daryl watched his son attempt to walk over to Maggie, but he ended up half-walking and mostly crawling over to her and hugging her belly. "He's growing up so fast."

"He is." Maggie smoothed down his darkening curls as he kissed her belly and smiled when her baby kicked back in response. "They're going to be best friends."

"Probably." Daryl hopped up and moved beside her to get some shade. "How is she?"

"Fussy. I've gone to the bathroom more times today than in my entire life and pregnancy, and I've had gas and heartburn, and I'm pretty sure she's trying to hook her toes on my ribs."

Daryl frowned. "That's unpleasant."

"Yeah, it is." She exhaled. "I'm ready to induce and get her out of me, but I'll wait. I want her to be ready to meet us and Greyson." Though Neva was pressing for inducing labor due to baby girl being two weeks late, but Maggie would wait. How much more uncomfortable could she get? Shit, it felt like a competition, and she wasn't winning.

"Yeah." He picked Greyson up, who fussed and reached for Maggie. "Hey, don't. She's still right here."

He grunted and made a sour face.

Maggie giggled. "Looks like Carol, hair and height like Tobin, acts like Daryl."

"Shut up." He was laughing though. He was glad that some of him was inside Greyson, too. "So, Mag, I got a question for you."

"Ask away." She wiped the drool from Greyson's chin, knowing there was likely a nice wet kiss mark on her shirt.

"Do you want to take Greyson?" He met her eyes.

"What?" She froze. "You can't be serious."

"Not permanently, just for a couple weeks while I go on a run with Rick and Carl. We have to get some more medical supplies and baby items for you and Rosita and Grey. It's going to be for a few weeks, and I know how much he loves you. Plus you are is godmother. It's kind of your job, but I thought I'd ask."

"Oh." She relaxed. "We'd love to have him."

"Thanks."

"Who else is goin'?" She had heard of it, but she wasn't involved with planning. She was on leave from her duties until the baby was born. She wasn't upset with that decision given what happened with her first baby, and she was informed enough.

"Heath, Spence, me, Carl and Rick. Maybe Enid, but it's still in the air."

"I thought so." She moistened her lips. "I heard her and Glenn talkin'. They didn't fill me in, actually stopped talkin' when I entered, but I knew. I approve. I just wish they wouldn't treat me like I'm invalid. I know the risks, and I know Enid can handle herself. She'll do great."

"I'll keep an eye on her."

"I think she'll be keeping an eye on you." She smiled softly at him. "Dad."

He chuckled softly and set a hand on Greyson's head. "Yeah, I bet."

"Be safe out there. You never know what you'll run in to."

"I will be. I have somethin' to come home to."

"Don't you mean someone?"

He shook his head but didn't explain.

"Okay, well, I have to use the bathroom—again. Probably always. My bladder will never recover from this treatment." She kissed Greyson's head and helped herself inside to use his bathroom.

Daryl held Greyson when he wanted to follow Maggie, and instead of pouting, he just huffed and accepted his fate calmly, focusing now on arms wrapped around him. He smacked them like they were drums and giggled at the noises the contact made.

Daryl smiled and kissed the back of his head. He didn't have someone to return to. He made no mistake in his wording. He had something to return to, something bigger than any one person, something deeper than blood and heavier than any weight—love. He had love to return to. He had love from his family like Maggie and Rick, he had love from Abraham and Michonne, and he had unconditional love from the son in his arms. He had this massive, fervent, relentless feeling to come back to every time he walked out of those gates, and it meant more to him than he could ever put into words. He got him up the morning—his love of his son and his family—and it wrapped him up in his dreams—dreams of his love. Of the beautiful silver savior that came to him night after night, somehow easing the pain with each feather-soft touch and filling the cannon with each smile and kiss. She was here for him, and when he woke, they were there for him. He was never alone, and he was never not loved. Love was more potent than any body could hold, so it was always best to return to love, not a person. People were in bodies that could fall and be injured, but love? It was body-less and eternal and could not lessen or be tainted by the world. It was as strong as any wind and as subtle as any shadow. It was the perfect thing to return to, because it filled every person he knew to the brim, and he would protect them from any harm. Always, because of love.

"Dada." Greyson drooled, blowing spit bubbles. "Daddy!"

Daryl chuckled and ran his thumb across his lips to wipe the drool off, Greyson whined, and Daryl shook his head. He could never win with this kid.

"My bubble," he whined.

Daryl stroked his hair and inhaled deeply before attacking his chubby cheeks with raspberry kisses, Greyson busted out in giggled and happily kicked his little legs, and Daryl chuckled, freeing him momentarily of the assault. "My cheeks."

He pouted again.

"All right. Round two." He sucked in more air.

– – –

Rick and Carl were preparing the car with supplies while Daryl and Enid went over the medical supplies they would be taking with them just in case with Denise. Spencer and Heath had prepped the weapons and were saying brief goodbyes to their loved ones. Denise saw Tara and Rosita lingering, and finally Spencer approached.

"Hey." He squinted in the sunlight.

"Yo." Rosita crossed her arms, her bump only slightly prominent along her slender figure. She was carrying high for sure. She wondered when...the baby would drop. When she thought about it, for that matter. It brought a lot of stress, and that wasn't good for a baby, so no thoughts, no stress. It was shit logic, and she knew it, but she would duke it out with Denise later. Words. Very important, right? No matter what direction the world went, words were still vital to survival.

"How are you feeling today?"

"Well, I have heartburn, and I can't keep down the food I actually want to eat, and I'm positive I haven't taken a shit since last week." She narrowed her eyes and nodded. "In the morning, too."

He chuckled awkwardly. "I...I don't know how to help that."

"Denise is pretty much making ghetto laxatives for me later, so it's okay." She offered a smile. "Your kid's doing well. Well rested, won't let me set anything on my stomach—not even my hands—and likes to kick. Everything, expect for food. It senses the food and leaves the plate alone, but my hands? Tara's hands? Neva's? Nope, no, not allowed. Access denied instantly." She laughed softly. "Pretty hilarious, actually."

He smiled softly at the happiness that flashed in her eyes. "I'll have to make her something good to not kick off your belly."

"Her?" Rosita arched a brow.

"Yeah, feels like a her."

"You hardly are around "her", so how do you know?"

"Just a feeling." He set a hand briefly on her belly before his daughter could kick him away. "I'll see you when I get back."

She averted her eyes. "Come home safe...okay? Bring them all home safe."

He nodded. "Of course."

"Don't let Rick sing," Tara jested. "It'll kill you faster than any bullet."

He laughed. "Yeah, Daryl reminds us all to not bring CDs." He stepped back. "Take care of yourselves and little baby Grey for us."

"Mags is on baby Grey duty, but we'll check in." Rosita shifted her arms toward her bump.

He joined his group as they met up by the gate, Glenn handed the medical satchel to Enid, who embraced him tightly, and Daryl assured him with a look that he'd be her shadow and keep any walkers off her blindside. Glenn was glad to have him there, and he returned it with a similar look that said he'd keep Grey safe and fed and happy. A promise of fathers. It wouldn't be broken.

"Glenn!" Michonne shouted as she ran over to the group, having been with Maggie previously on her way to say goodbye to Rick and Carl. They had to drop Judith off with Sasha, since Aaron and Eric were busy with Section Eight, and Sasha was off and taking care of Eli and Grey already with the aid of Abraham.

He jolted and looked back, still holding onto Enid. "What is it?" He dropped his arm from her waist to draw closer to Michonne, but Enid caught his hand and followed him.

Michonne was breathless. "Maggie..."

Enid's hand tightened in Glenn's, and she felt her throat dry out. "What about her?"

Michonne inhaled and caught herself on her knees. She wasn't out of shape, but damn was her throat dry when she wanted to shout. "Oof." She straightened and met his widening, panicked eyes. "No worries. Her water broke."

"What?" Glenn gasped. "Her—she—where is she?"

"Eugene and Aaron are helping her here. I ran ahead to get Neva and you ready." Her eyes fell to Enid, who was about to depart for a weeks long run. "It hit her fast, but I don't think the baby will be here before you leave."

"I—" Enid cut off, pressing her lips together, meeting Glenn's eyes. She wanted to meet this baby who was a sibling to her, but she couldn't disappointed her team. She had been so pumped for this run, assuring everybody she was ready to be the team medic, and she wanted nothing more than to ditch them to be with Maggie. It was such an important moment for their family. How could she not be there? But...as for importance...how could she not go?

"It's okay." Carl was suddenly beside her along with Rick. "Stay. We'll be fine. I've...been taking some classes from Denise and Carol..." He glanced at Daryl before continuing. "Uh, Carol showed me some things, too. I remember them."

"I can't do that." Enid turned to him. "I said I'd go."

"And we got it covered," Rick gently replied. "Be with your family. You have siblin' on the way. We'll be just fine. And if not, we'll blame Carl."

"Better me than Daryl," Carl commented. "His solution to a wound was quick-thinking but ultimately awful. Prone to various infections, and it hardly stopped the bleeding."

Daryl sent him a slight glare, and Carl chuckled. "Stay with Maggie and Glenn. Francine wanted to join us anyway, you can cover her shifts. We'll make it work with Carl."

"Are you sure?" She felt somewhat guilty, but utterly thrilled to be here when her sibling was born, to help Maggie through this process and to be with her family at such a crucial and impacting moment.

"This baby won't wait forever!"Aaron shouted as he neared with Maggie and Eugene.

"Maggie!" Glenn let go of Enid's hand to bolt over to her and pick her up off her feet, gently guiding her towards the clinic.

"Prince Charming strikes again." Tara hurried after him to grab the things they would need for the birth, like the doctor Michonne had yet to notify.

"Hold on." Enid placed a kiss to Carl's lips before running after them. "Be careful, Grimes!" She shouted over her shoulder before disappearing into the clinic.

Carl blushed somewhat and avoided eye contact.

"You got that, Grimes?" Daryl mused.

"Shut up." He blushed even more and stomped off to the car.

Rick chuckled and exhaled, looking over Michonne slowly to remember her for when he was gone.

"Save it for when you get back." Michonne smirked at him. "Take care of our boy, okay?"

"Always. Watch our daughter." He kissed her forehead. "And yourself."

"Kinda planned on it." She chuckled and kissed him. "I love you, Grimes."

He smiled. "I love you, too."

Daryl inhaled despite the pangs in his chest and ambled slowly over to the group by the car to give them privacy, and he leaned against the sun-heated car, feeling it burning against his back as he did. He twisted the ring on his finger and felt the cool relief from the other dangling between his breasts. He looked upward at the bright sky and blew out a long sigh. A baby was going to be born today. It was going to be a good day. How could it not be? There was no room for you, he thought to himself, no room at all. Get out.

"Let's hit the road." Rick yanked open the driver's side door.

Daryl nodded to him and opened the passenger side, glancing back at his home, knowing his son was safely playing just a few houses away. He exhaled and climbed into the car, focused for what he had to do. What they all had to do. He was ready for what this trip brought.

– – –

Greyson slept curled up on Enid's belly, Enid was in and out of sleep on the couch, and Maggie was resting peacefully on the bed while Glenn walked the length of it, gently rocking the bundle in his arms. Maggie had given birth to a beautiful and healthy eight pound, nine ounces baby girl who was named Annie Faith Rhee. She was the picture of her father with the Greene family eyes and the nose, but that gentle smile, the rosy lips those soft coos escaped from, the cheeks were all her daddy's. She was the entire world in his arms and in his heart, and there weren't enough words or thoughts to put together how he felt simply holding his baby girl in his arms. His Annie. His everything. Their everything.

He looked up at Enid and Greyson and felt his very soul...exhale. His first child, his godchild, were perfect. Enid was beautiful and thoughtful and while bruised, she was a force. She was a warrior and a healer and a Rhee through and through. She was the missing link to their family, and now she was a big sister. She had grown into a lovely, passionate, crafty young woman, and he was proud to be by her side through that journey. He couldn't wait to finish with her, to see Enid become who she was always meant to be, despite how this world tried to break her. She persisted, and she endured, and she came out better for it. Through loss and heartache and depression and agony, she persisted and remained human and became...the type of person any parent would be proud to raise. A fiery soul that beat brightly for all she wanted to protect. He hoped she could pass that onto her sister, too. Perhaps help craft the type of soul Annie would have and what it would bloom for.

Maggie moaned softly and rolled her head to the side, eyes opening to a blurry image of Glenn and their daughter. She smiled instantly, widely, and marveled at the perfection before her. "Hmm."

"Hi." He returned her grin and kissed her forehead. "You should rest."

"It's for the birds." She reached a hand out to stroke her baby's head gently. "How is she?"

"Exhausted." He kept his tone low. "I just...don't want to put her down. I...I can't."

"She's not going anywhere." Maggie had hogged her for about five hours, so she had no room to talk. Holding that precious life in her arms and knowing it was hers and Glenn's combined, knowing it held the energy of their parents and grandparents, knowing it would hold the future...was like the shore after a terrible storm. She was gorgeous and tender and soft. She was this wiggly little human who Maggie loved so, so much, and she couldn't get enough of her. God, she could marvel at that baby for the rest of her life and be satisfied.

"I know. A few more minutes."

"A few more minutes," she agreed.

Enid jolted on the couch and groaned, wiping drool off her mouth and snuffling, looking over at Maggie and Glenn and Annie. "She okay?"

"She's great," Glenn assured her. "You should get some sleep in your own bed. It's late."

"I'm fine."

"At least put Greyson in his bed," Maggie suggested. "Otherwise he won't get used to it."

"Right." She adjusted the toddler who was out like the dead and scooped him up. "Well, since I'm going that way anyway, I think I'll turn in."

Glenn threw an arm up, Maggie giggled softly, and Enid stumbled out of the room. Glenn hurried gently to the doorway to be sure she didn't fall, and Enid made it to Greyson's temporary room and then to her own safely. He exhaled and cuddled his daughter closer, muttering about how her big sis was going to give him a stroke.

"C'mere." Maggie patted the bed. "Bring her here."

Glenn sat down in the patted area and adjusted Annie in his arms so Maggie could see her, too, and Maggie smiled widely at the sight of the newborn. She stroked her cheek tenderly with her fingertips, and Glenn caught her finger with his thumb and index fingers, squeezing affectionately. She leaned over and kissed his fingertips and Annie's cheek. She wanted to wrap the four of them up in her arms and never let this feeling of endless love escape her. She was so...blessed to have this family—husband, daughter, daughter, godson—and it was all hers. She found them, and they found her. They were a perfect puzzle. Truly.

"Thank you," Glenn whispered to his wife, who lifted her eyes from their child.

"For what?" Maggie looked into those deep orbs to try and find the answer, but all she could see was his affection. She could feel it like a warm embrace, and she basked in it.

He kissed her forehead. "For everything," he said even softer than his thanks. "You've given me back the world when I thought it was lost."

She reached up and tucked hair behind his ear, brushing her thumb across his cheek. "You did the same for me right from the start. I'm so glad it was you. It was always you."

Soft cries began to emerge from Annie's mouth, Maggie instantly made to sit up to comfort her, but Glenn stilled her movements and rose to rock her gently. Enid came back into the room at the cries, and Glenn wanted to tell her to go back to bed, but Enid wouldn't have it. She pushed her hair back and blinked hard a few times before blowing out a sigh and holding her arms out for the baby. Glenn was reluctant due to how little sleep she'd gotten, but Enid insisted. He carefully handed Annie over to her big sister, and Enid hushed her gently, carrying her over to the window to see the moonlight and humming softly the tune to Hush Little Baby.

"Hush little sister, don't you cry. You're all right, and we're nearby. We'll watch you grow and learn to fly. I'll hold your hand and keep the time, so hush little Annie, say good night. The world won't harm you any night. I'll be here to hold your hand. With Mom and Dad and Greyson, too. We'll be watching over you," she sang to the little girl, who's wails died down to hiccups and eyes focused on the singer. "So hush little Annie, don't you cry, you'll be fine and sleep tonight."

Maggie's heart warmed at the sight of Enid singing to her little sister, calling Glenn and herself "Mom" and "Dad", and her eyes burned. She thought it was silly to be crying, but her hormones were playing tricks on her. God, it was a priceless memory. She would cherish it always.

Glenn approached Enid as Annie fell back asleep, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulder, kissing her temple in thanks, and Enid smiled softly. "C'mere." He guided Enid over to Annie's bassinet, helping her place the newborn down, and Enid moaned sleepily. Glenn then guided her back over to the bed by Maggie and sat her down. She was too exhausted to argue and just curled up with Maggie. Glenn sat on the couch and pulled the blanket off the back of it down over him. He shook his head when Maggie started to speak; he was fine here. He could keep an eye on them and be there for Annie instantly, and Grey, too, if he cried for them. He was in the best place for both jobs, and in the best place he could ever be in in this life.

– – –

Daryl looked over the vacant lot, Rick and Carl were a few yards away, rattling the fence to draw any walkers away, and Spencer was jogging around the back with Heath to see if there were any holes in the back lot. He inhaled the fresh air, free of the mud and wood shavings. He lived far too close to Section Eight for comfort, but maybe it was just his heightened sense. It didn't hurt Grey, so he didn't worry too much.

He readied his crossbow despite not hearing or seeing anything, and he felt pushed backwards. He whirled around to find five walkers that came seemingly out of nowhere. He whistled to Rick as he busted open the face of the one closest to him, shooting the other with a bolt. Carl came running by with his machete and sliced through the faces of the two in the back, and Daryl finished off the last when he pulled his bolt free from the face of the other downed walker and thrust it into the face of the last walker.

"Close call." Carl pushed hair out of his face and shook the maggots off his blade. "I didn't even hear them."

"Yeah." Daryl freed his bolt and looked over the road for any signs of movement, but it was still.

"Dad and I will go inside. Spence will come back around to watch with you." Carl squinted a bit in the sun. "Just whistle if more than you can handle come. Heath'll be in earshot to alert us."

"Will do." He stood up and heard Carl returned to his dad. Daryl scanned the area, the hot wind picking up and instead of rot and gore, he could have sworn he smelled her. The scent of her skin fresh out of the shower, a faint mix of her shampoo and natural body scent, and his eyes stung. He gripped the bolt tightly and swallowed hard. "Carol..."

That sweet breeze came once more and then it was gone, gore and rot replacing it, the scent of mildew heavy in the air. He exhaled deeply and smiled to himself somewhat, feeling a pleasant weight from the ring on his finger, and the one around his neck, delicate and solid as the woman who once wore it. He steeled himself and turned back towards his mission here, but perhaps...it wasn't just him turning back to them. He didn't believe, but...he felt...her all around him. Like a blanket, cozy and protective and everywhere all at once. He must have heatstroke, but...to feel her so near, he'd welcome it. Always, especially in the coming years when things would be even more unsteady as he raised Greyson into a good man...

– – –

He grunted and tossed the knife hard into the target painted onto the fence, his body jolting forward with the movement, dark, unbrushed waves he called hair falling into his face, and his onyx eyes narrowed when he missed his mark. He growled in frustration and felt hands on his head, a calming pressure he was used to.

"I missed," he stated flatly.

"You'll get it next time." His friend offered an encouraging smile.

"Easy for you to say," the young boy retorted. "You have more skill than I do. You're older. Plus, your dad's like a total badass, and the stories of your mom... You're grandfathered in here."

"Hey, hey." Rosita added more of her weight to her hands, the boy groaned, and she pulled a hair tie from her wrist. "No bullying, and your mother happens to be just as good as them."

"It's the truth," he griped, ignoring her comment on herself, as she gathered messy waves from his shoulders to pull it back into a ponytail. "And he hardly messes up."

"You'll get better at it." Carl pulled the knives out of the target, looking over his small class. "You'll all get better. It takes practice, like anything."

"Keep your hair out of your eyes," Rosita instructed. "Okay? Or I cut it."

"No!" He jolted away from his mother and her threat. "Mom, you promised to let me grow it out!"

"Only if you took care of it, and you're not." She crossed her arms. "It's like a nest on your head."

"I overslept and didn't have time to brush it." He looked over at his friends, finding blue and black eyes hiding amusement at his lie. He was really messy and didn't want to deal with it most of the time, but he liked having it long. Probably because he looked like a baby when Mom cut it short. Granted, he was only ten years old and was kinda still a baby to most of the adults, but that wasn't true. He was old enough. He was grown, even. Sorta. Ugh, if he had to argue about it then he wasn't!

"C'mon, let's go again." Rosita turned him around. "Annie, Grey, why don't you go on and meet Enid? You have class in a few minutes. We'll catch up."

Annie took Greyson's hand instantly and jerked him towards the clinic for their lessons, Greyson ran to keep up, and Annie giggled as they bolted down the street together to make it to class in time.

"I suck." Wyatt kicked the dirt, heaving a heavy sigh.

"You don't suck." Rosita grabbed a couple knives from the bucket, nodding at Carl to let him know she had this session, and Carl departed as she returned to her son. "You need practice. It's all about hand-eye cordination. You'll learn it with time."

"You do it so well, though."

"Because I've been doing it for years. You only just started. You expect too much too soon. You'll get a little better every day until you're just as good as—if not better—than the others." She planted her feet beside him. "Your dad is terrible at combat, but he's learning, too."

"Dad's a good shot," Wyatt argued.

"I said combat." She chucked the knife and hit the target spot on. "He's a decent shot. Sasha is better."

"So much better!" Wyatt's eyes lit up at the mention of Sasha. "She's amazing. She said she'd take me out with her to the course next week. I'm so excited. Aunt Sasha is so cool."

"What am I? Room temperature?" She cocked a brow at her son.

"You're my mom," he muttered. "You're all right."

"I'm all right?" She put a hand on her hip. "Just all right?"

"You're cooler than Dad," he offered.

"Everyone is."

"I haven't seen you fight or nothin'," he defended. "Sasha guards the wall all the time, and Dad lets me go out hunting with him now and then with Daryl and Grey. You don't let me do anything. You're always busy, too, with work and lessons. If you'd only see that I'm trying. I really am, and you don't have to be, like, embarrassed by me. I can handle my own. I'm really good with axes, just like Abe! If you watched me then you'll see, and we can—"

"Wyatt." She bent down to be at eye level with him and caught his chin gently between her thumb and index finger. "I don't take you outside the walls because it's dangerous. You know that. You're not ready to be out there. I don't care what Dad or Abe or Daryl or even Sasha say. It's my say, okay? And I know you're grasping it better than most, but I need more than grasping. I need confident and prepared, and that's why I'm training you harder than Annie or Grey. You're getting stronger every day, and I can see that. I'm so proud of you, too, and I want you to be ready to face that world. It's not just guns and glory like you seem to think. It's brutal, relentless and unforgiving. You can't just step back and unsee what that world chooses to show you. It's permanent, and it's damaging. You're not ready to open your eyes to what that world has in store for anyone who ventures out into it."

He lowered his eyes. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry." She released his chin to stroke his cheek. "You are getting there, but it takes baby steps."

"But I'm not a baby."

"I know, mi amor." She brushed her thumb across the cheekbones his father had given him and placed a kiss there. "But you're my baby, mi cara, and I need you to be one hundred percent ready to face the outside world when the time comes. Can you tell me honestly that you're ready?"

He shook his head. "Probably not."

"No, but once you are, I will be the first person to take you out there. We'll go on a run—you and me."

His eyes lit up. "Really? Just us?"

"Just us."

He hugged her tightly. "Thanks, Mom."

"I'd do anything for you," she whispered into his messy locks, "you know that."

"I know." He squeezed her. "I love you."

She chuckled. "I love you, too. I'm so glad you're my son." She kissed his hair. "Let's wrap this up. You're missing class. Dad'll have a stroke if you get an absent."

"Ugh, that's coop duty!" Wyatt groaned. "The chickens hate me."

"Then focus and keep your form." She straightened his shoulders. "Concentrate.

He nodded and picked up another knife from the bucket.

Rosita watched him and his form for two tosses then stepped in to relax his shoulder and plant his feet. She wanted him to get better at protecting himself. She wanted him to be able to land in any situation and calmly looked it over and find ten ways out of it. She didn't want him to know pain or loss. She wanted him to be brave and loved and kind and soft. She wanted him to the best humanity had to offer, the best of what was left of her, and slowly he was growing into a man of his own that was very similar to what she wanted for it. He was his own self, guided by her and Spencer, and he was a good kid. She wouldn't trade him for anything in the world. He was gentle and thoughtful and stubborn and adamant. He was...her son, her purpose, her drive. He was the only man she needed in her life.

She had given birth shortly after Maggie to Wyatt Monroe Espinosa. She shared him with Spencer, but they weren't together. They didn't even live together. Spencer had fought with her for most of her pregnancy and Wyatt's infancy for her to move in with him, but she refused. She was content to live with Tara and Denise for as long as they would have her, and they were still happy to have her and her son. She wouldn't change their set up for anything. He and Denise were best friends, and she taught him so much about medicine and finding herbs if he had nothing, and Tara was a big sister to him. They were gaming buddies, and she brought out the child in him. And all the while Wyatt saw plenty of Spencer, and Wyatt never questioned how they chose to raise him—together and apart. It was simply their parenting style, and he understood it—an understanding he got from her, not his father.

Through raising Wyatt, Rosita got to know and respect a new side of Daryl. He, too, was raising a child alone—a rowdy boy, no less—and he was happy to lend a hand with Wyatt, even though he was a whole new type of rascal—unlike Greyson. Neva hit that one right on the head—hiding little rascal—and that was his current nickname. While he was a good kid, he was troublesome and liked to pull pranks. Too often Spencer and Rosita were pulled from their duties to tend to Wyatt's latest trick. Spencer found it funny, but Rosita wouldn't tolerate it. It was a healthy part of growing up, and it did her so much good to see such normalcy here, but he needed to learn that wasn't okay behavior. Especially in the chicken coop. Poor Annie wouldn't even go back in there after his last one.

"Whoa!" Wyatt jumped up in the air and laughed. "Mom, did you see that? I hit it! I really hit it! Yes!"

Rosita laughed. "Good job, mi cara."

"I have to tell Dad. He'll be so jealous. He can never hit the target!" He squealed and almost ran off but halted. "Um...can I go tell Dad? He's out in Section Five, but I won't cause any trouble. I promise. Mom, please, please let me go."

"Not right now, baby. Dad has important meetings." She collected the knives. "Besides you still have class you're late for."

"Okay." He heaved a massive sigh though, but helped her clear the area.

Section Five was the section granted to Spencer to tend to. Maggie was the main boss of Alexandria, but Spencer was like a mini-boss of Five. They handled most of the gardening now and pickling and making rations last as long as they could. Olivia was the second in command there, and they made a good team. They balanced each other out, and Spencer wasn't the shell of a man he once was. He had healed through the birth of his son and grew into his own man at last to show Wyatt what a good man was. He had grown up exponentially, and Rosita was impressed by the results. Everyone was, especially the ones who worked with him on a daily basis. They were proud to call him a friend and fellow worker. Wyatt was super proud of his dad, and Rosita was happy for him. Just from a distance. She and Spencer both agreed to just be friends and parents so as to not confuse Wyatt, and Wyatt understood. He was thrilled to just have his parents, and perhaps that simplicity would be enough. She hoped so.

Wyatt grasped her hand as they walked back to the shed to put the bucket of knives away then headed to the clinic to catch up on the lesson. Rosita found such strength and vigor holding onto his small hand, and she was grateful for having him in her life, even when she wasn't sure she wanted this life anymore. He had shown her it was worth it, no matter how much it hurt. It hurt like fucking hell, too, but...it was worth it. There was still beauty, and it wasn't all sour, bitter notes.

"Race ya." Rosita dropped his hand and took off like a shot.

"You're so on!" He dashed after her without protesting on her head start.

–––

Maggie looked over the wall fortifications once more while being sure that Sage had a good grip on his bottle, and she heard someone entering the office. She looked up to find Michonne and Denise there. She smiled and was reminded of their meeting to discuss the herbal plants growing in Five. They had medicinal properties and would be used in the clinic. That was the jest of the meeting, but there was more to it that Maggie wanted to explain, such as allowing each family to keep a portion in their own homes. That would require a class on how to properly used the herbs, and that's where Michonne came in.

"Hey, Sage." Michonne flashed a smile at the three-year-old who drank apple juice from a bottle to keep from spilling on Mommy's papers.

"Hi," he murmured, taking a moment from his juice.

"Glenn oughta be here to take him." Maggie sat down in her chair and placed Sage on her lap. "Eric is still on for babysitting, right? I haven't spoken to him since I asked, and I'd rather not go with Eli right now. I mean, she's...great and protective, but... oof."

"Wild child." Denise chuckled. "She's been outside the wall most of the day. Poor Greyson has been trying to keep her still, but she won't have it."

"He has a crush on her," Michonne teased. "It's so adorable. He's so awkward, and she's so...brash. He follows her like a puppy dog. Eric is already joking about wedding plans."

Maggie snickered. "He's barely twelve."

"I know, but Eric has little else to do now that his class graduated." Michonne sat down. "So he'll have Sage and Maya, won't he?" She smiled at the boy who looked away, far too invested in that bottle. "Did you spike that juice?"

"He loves fruit," Maggie commented. "Like, loves it. Glenn had to stop him from trying to eat the watermelon rind last night. He threw a fit but Annie let him have the rest of hers. We had hers cubed, because she's picky. She only eats cubed fruits, so, we'll just have to do the same with his."

"No," Sage shook his head.

"Yes." Maggie nodded her head at him as he continued to shake his head.

"Mommy," he whined.

"Sage," she whined back, and he fixed a narrow-eyed stare at her. "Neither one of us like it, but if you can do it, so can I."

"I want Daddy." He slid off her lap and waddled over towards the door that was gated over.

"See? I'm a bad cop. I can't win." She crossed her legs. "At least Enid and Annie like me."

"Daddy!" Sage dropped his empty bottle and held his arms up.

"Hey, buddy." Glenn stepped over the gate and scooped his son up. "What's up?"

"Mommy's being mean." He buried his face in his dad's shoulder and pouted.

"Why?" Glenn looked at his wife.

"I didn't want him to eat the watermelon rind," Maggie answered. "I'm a true mastermind of evil."

Glenn tried not to laugh. "C'mon, buddy, let's go watch the fish. You'll feel better."

"Don't let him get too close. Wyatt put a turtle in there somewhere, and it ain't too friendly."

"Yeah, he nipped Flynn last week on the toe. He refuses to come into Section One now. We'll stay by the benches." He climbed over the gate and headed downstairs to let them get down to business.

"How are the kids?" Denise asked now that Glenn was gone.

"Well, my babies are growing up too fast, and I'm not ready." She smiled bitter-sweetly. "Enid and Carl are...gonna move into Section Nine next week. They want to be the first family in that section to test the new houses. They're further out, and while in theory they ought to have the same functions as One through Eight, we can't be sure. They want to be sure it's all squared away, which I approve of. Plus, we did build another clinic there for Enid and her classes."

"Abe told me about it." Denise nodded. "He's so proud of it. They got the rest of the medical equipment from that hospital, and Eugene is using the salvageable parts for God only knew what. Francine tells me he's been up for three days trying to work on a communication device for runs. It's meant to be a mix of a phone and walkie talkie insofar as it won't need phone lines. She's been slipping him natural sedatives so he'll sleep."

"Is that why I found him drooling on my tower?" Michonne crossed her legs, recalling the sight of Eugene hugging a chuck of metal and drooling onto the oak of her tower. "It scared the newcomers. It's meant to welcome, and he looked like a loon. He came out of it talking in Latin, so that didn't help."

Maggie snickered. "We've got it under control. Rick and Abe have locked him out of his "inventing room", and he's been spending a lot of time with our new reader, Lillah. She's so fascinated by his inventions, and they're swapping ideas."

"Is that really a good thing?" Michonne arched a brow. "He did nearly set fire to Seven, and Olivia won't let him in Five."

"Yeah, but she's sweet on him. She's about to change her mind." Denise laced her fingers together. "He brought her flowers yesterday to apologize for the tomato plants he ruined."

"Aww." Maggie penned down a note in her journal. "Speaking of, I need to check on the flowers in Six for the wedding."

"Wedding?" Michonne inquired.

"Carl and Enid's. He popped the question in the field," Maggie smiled at the memory flashing in her mind, "and he'd asked with a ring he'd found on his last run. It was so beautiful. The flowers were all in bloom, and Enid was about to die from trying not to sneeze her head off." She laughed in thought. When Enid finally let it out, she sneezed about ten times and then blood gushed out. It was terrible, but Carl had brought a cloth in case it happened. God, that boy had more game than half the men here. Hers, included.

"Wow." Michonne gasped. "He didn't tell me that."

"Yeah, I overheard it. I said I wouldn't tell, but as moms, I had to. I mean...just yesterday she was sixteen and pestering me on how to keep my wounds clean. Now she's this young woman who's ready to move out and be part of a sacred partnership. My heart's torn up." She sighed. "I'm so proud and grateful, but she...is a part of me. I'm not sure how I move forward with a part of me missing."

"She'll still be close by," Denise urged.

"That's true, but it's not the same. I'll just have to adjust." She met Michonne's eyes. "He's going to tell you tonight. He's been dying to tell you, but he wanted it to be a surprise for you, too. She'll be yours through this marriage, and he wanted the timing to be right. For you and Rick and especially Judith."

Judith had been in the ass end of her beginning teenager years. She was a rebellious brat, to be frank. She fought with Rick all the time about him babying her, because she was a girl. She chopped off all her hair and refuses to speak to him until he lets her go out on her own run without him. She wasn't entirely in the wrong here, but she wasn't handling it well at all. She was young, and it made sense. Carl was as much a brat as Judith, and Michonne blamed Lori, which Rick found both amusing and heart aching. Lori left echoes all over those kids, and Judith was really shining through now.

She looked just like Lori now, her short cropped hairs a hue of honey given to her through her paternal father's grandmother, and her eyes were dark and keen and careful. Her smile full and warm and reflected Lori every time she showed it. Her body was still growing, but they had a feeling she'd come up to about Carl's shoulder once she was finished growing, and she was going to be a lethal beauty.

She spend hours and hours at the training field with Sasha and Aaron, joining Michonne and Daryl for their workouts, and she was a little bad ass. She was an archer, just like her best friend and second father, and she was a good ass shot with the bow Daryl had originally made for Grey, but it suited Judith more. She crafted her own arrows with his help, and she was starting to research poisons in case anyone else came and did what they'd done to their other homes—no one approved of this, but Neva helped her just so she'd be careful with it. It was mostly the hobby of Eli, who just so happened to be her best friend, and while they were a good balance, the poison wasn't approved by any parents on either side. They mostly read up on it and worked with the gardeners to be sure they had herbs to help create an antidote should one be needed one day. (Eric really wished Eli would just knit or something, but if the girl wasn't pouncing on Grey and Judy, she was lost in the world of books and all they had to offer, especially the dangerous things they had to offer.)

Judith adored Enid like a big sister, and they used to sing together all the time before Enid got too busy with treating wounds and teaching. It hurt Judith—they all could tell—but Carl had made time for them. He filled in where Enid couldn't, and they were planning on having Judith over now and then to let her know they were always a family, and she was always welcome. They were confident it would ease this huge change in her life, and Maggie thought of Beth every time she looked at Judy now. How could she not? Judith had almost the same flaxen hair as Beth, the same gentleness in her smile, and there was an edge to her in combat that reminded Maggie of Beth before they found the prison. Beth would be...amazed at the woman Judith was becoming, and Maggie made sure Judith knew of the light-haired girl who sang to her and who eased her nightmares and tears. Judith was fond of those stories, and Maggie...passed down Beth's knife to the girl. It only felt right.

"Are you okay?" Michonne reached over the desk to grasp Maggie's hand, and Maggie realized she had been silent, lost in those memories and in the smile of a beautiful soul that's gentle voice came to her in a warm summer's breeze and embraced her often.

"Yeah." She swallowed. "I'm...fine. What were we talking about?"

"Carl and Enid getting married and moving out."

"Right, he'll talk to you guys tonight, and it'll work out." She pulled out a smile. "He's determined to make it work out, so it has to."

Michonne returned her smile. "Thank you for being there."

"He didn't want me there, trust me." She laughed. "But...he has my approval, for whatever it means to him."

Michonne squeezed her hand and released it. "Okay, back to business."

"Right." She pulled out her plan for a monthly get together for the community. She wanted to be sure the vast community of Alexandria got a chance to know who exactly were their neighbors within these walls, and she wanted to get the opinion on the newcomers. She wanted to learn their work desires and thoughts on their new home altogether. She was excited about it. She might even find some help among them, which she sorely needed. She was leaving for Hilltop to speak with their new leader next week, and she didn't want to leave this place unattended. She listened daily to problems, and she didn't want a single voice to feel unheard, so she would leave Glenn in her place, but it'd be a good learning experience for anyone who shared her passion.

She couldn't wait to exchanged ideas and plans for the future with someone who wasn't half asleep because their toddler ran to him for "protection". It was entirely Glenn's fault for being the soft parent. She told him to not cut Sage so much slack so young, and there they were now. He was a daddy's boy, and he had Glenn wrapped around his little finger. It was the most precious sight Maggie could ever hoped to have seen. Although Annie did get jealous now and then since Glenn was too poop for their training sessions or to read books with her or to just hang out with her, but Grey had that covered. Big brother that he was. As godparents and friends of his dad, Grey practically spend half his life with them, and Annie adored him. She was so in love with him as her big brother, and he didn't know what to make of it, but he was just as fond of her. They were so close and protective of each other, just like Sasha and Tyreese, Amy and Andrea, and Maggie and Beth. They were siblings in every way but blood, and Maggie could see it did Daryl's heart wonders to know Grey had someone like that in his life. After he came home every day with new cuts and bruises from chasing after Eli all day, it was a sight for sore eyes to see that scraped-knee little boy on the steps of his house, braiding Annie's hair while she read A Wrinkle In Time to him. Maggie had a picture of it on her desk, one the last few their Polaroid had coughed out before it kicked the bucket.

"So, when do you meet Keela?" Denise made a supply list for the Hilltop. They treated goods and animals to be sure no one starved, and currently Hilltop wanted to trade coffee bean plants for a dozen chickens since a coyote got into their coop last week. Everyone jumped on the idea of having already growing coffee beans, so that was high on the list. That and vanilla. It was also for the coffee. Michonne insisted.

"At dawn in seven days. We'll be in talks throughout the day," Maggie replied. "The runners won't be coming that week since I'll be there, but if you need to contact us, Eli and Aaron are ready."

"Eli?" Michonne sucked air in through her teeth.

"She's ready," Maggie assured her. "When she's outside of those walls, she has a focus like I've never seen. She's...brutally protective after what happened with Eric last year, and she's cautious due to Daryl's training. She's not going to screw around. She wants to be a runner, so...it's a test. She won't fail."

"I need to schedule an appointment with Eric," Denise absentmindedly murmured. He had a be-weekly checkup to ensure his upper arm wasn't taking any strain from his "arm". Aaron and Eugene insisted. After he lost his lower arm in the factory... God, that day was awful.

Eli had been thirteen and emotional. She was so upset with her fathers, and she ran away. Worse yet, she dragged eleven year old Grey with her, and Daryl went into a panic. He tracked her down almost five hours later due to the girl taking a car, which she subsequently crashed and nearly ruined Grey's knee. She had carried him into the factory nearby without checking it first and was a mess of tears from the guilt, and Daryl found her with Eric, who had been following him without Daryl knowing.

Greyson had passed out from the blood loss, Eli was crying over him, and she didn't hear the walkers. It was easily over a dozen, Daryl tried his best to fend them off, Eli helped too, but she got cornered and fell into an office through the window. She was dazed, and Eric went after her while Daryl got Grey off the assembly line. And somewhere between the walkers and Eric trying to reach her, a trap set up by a group they would later deal with was triggered. His arm was crushed, his hip was busted, and he had a crack in his femur. He was barely conscious, but he stayed awake until Eli crawled over to him.

Enid and Denise had gone after them in case anyone had got hurt. They found the crashed car and Daryl outside trying to bind Greyson's wounds, Enid went to help him, and Denise found Eli inside with Eric. She had removed his arm, wrapped her belt around the stump and pulled him away from wreckage, begging him to wake up. She had cuts from her fall all over her, blackening bruises on her legs and sides, and she had broken her finger, but she was only concerned about him. She never let that compassion fade. It only burned brighter, and that was why Maggie was sure of her for this task. She was one of their best when she was outside the wall. She would be a fine runner, just like Glenn taught her to be.

"How is that mess?" Maggie tucked hair behind her ear. "Does it even work?"

"I don't even know. He only wears it to humor Abe."

Abe had fashioned this gaudy, wooden crossbow arm contraption for Eric, and it was too heavy for his small shoulder to handle. Abe didn't factor that in, just wanted to help, and it as a kind gesture. If not one that caused his shoulder to dislocate a few times. Good thing Eli wasn't afraid to force it back in.

"Sasha has him working on a better one," Michonne divulged. "It's lighter, and it'll work. Eugene is helping, and so is Lillah. It's for Eric's birthday."

"Aww." Maggie smiled. "I wish I could be there."

"You have more important things to do, and you'll be at the next one."

Keela was knew to power, and Maggie wanted to guide her down a path that was best for every person in their care. They had signed a sort of agreement that while there were miles between them, they were sister cities, and they would protect each other and aid each other forevermore. Keela had written it up, and together with Rick and Michonne and Maggie, they edited it to suit the needs of both groups as a whole. They signed it up, and copies were made to hang in the office of both leaders. It wouldn't be forgotten. Next week was the half year anniversary of that signing, and they had plenty to discuss on the benefits and drawbacks it provided. It was going to be a lengthy session, but that was good. It was for the future, after all. It deserved to take hours and days to ensure the safety and longevity of their home.

"If she has any puppies," Denise attempted to slyly slide that in.

Maggie grinned. "Tara wants brown and black if available, I know."

She blushed somewhat. "Have I mentioned it too much?"

"No, I have it written down in the itinerary. It's the want of my sister, so of course I'll ask." She clicked her pen. "If there's more than one, I think I'll give one to Carl and Enid as a wedding present."

"Hey, if you're giving out puppies," Michonne pointed to herself.

"C'mon, I already took four of her last litter to help with at the clinic! I can't take three more...if she doesn't have them ready."

The clinic was for the townsfolk who couldn't cope with everything easily or had endured a particularly challenging run. Gabriel worked there to help sooth with God, and Tara offered humor and compassion, and if that didn't work, puppies. There were four there currently: Sammy, Black Bean, Ty and Butter Butt. The kids at the time who were living there got to name them, and the dogs adored their names. They also adored their guests. They were very gentle and thoughtful. They were the best soul healers. Maggie couldn't thank Keela more for those pups. They were a gift.

"Oh, speaking of pets!" Maggie jotted down a note. "Keela wants some fish for the pond they dug."

"I have some in a bowl ready."

They turned to the voice to find Eli standing in the doorway. She was clean and didn't have a single bruise or sign of being outside the walls on her. No twigs or leaves in her hair, which was oddly braided back. Maggie knew it was Grey's work. He did Annie's in the same way. That boy probably stumbled off the porch to help her braid her hair.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but um, I have a message from Dad." She stepped into the room and added, "Aaron."

"What's going on?" Maggie stood up, worried it might be serious if Aaron couldn't come himself.

"We have a serious issue with your leadership," Eli stated. "Like a super serious issue with it."

Maggie could only stare.

Michonne rose and faced the child, arms crossed. "Excuse me?"

"Yep, issues." Eli stepped closer. "It's not just my dad who thinks so."

"Eli, you need to sit down." Denise walked over to the girl and slid an arm over her shoulder. "You don't know what his opinion means."

"I do. It means Maggie wears a serious face all the time and doesn't take breaks. It isn't good for her health, which is why we don't approve." She slipped out from under Denise's arm and tossed a mud pie at Maggie, who didn't even jolt, simply blinked and looked down it when splattered on the floor. "War has been declared!"

"Oh, come on." Maggie hung her head. "I told him—lightening the mood didn't include—"

"War!" Eli cut her off and smiled. "We meet in ten minutes to discuss change!" She laughed and ran out of the room.

"Ten minutes?" Maggie flicked a twig off her blouse and nodded, spotting Eli and Greyson running down the street with Annie. Oh, hell no, he has her child? Her child? Sixteen hours of pushing her out, and she picked Aaron? Uh-uh. "I bet he has Glenn on his side."

Michonne chuckled. "And Rick."

"You both know Tara started this," Denise added.

"Let's nail 'em." Maggie pulled her hair up and marched out the door. "War has been declared!" She jogged down the stairs to give Aaron a piece of her demands. She hoped it smacked him right in the face!

– – –

"Hey, Greyson." Daryl set his crossbow down on the dinner table, hearing a thud from the couch. He looked over to find his sixteen year old son hiding behind the cushions. He smirked. "The hell are you doin'?" Blue eyes quickly averted his, and Daryl narrowed his eyes now. "Grey?"

"S'up." Eli appeared beside him. "Daryl." She ran a hand over her hair and cleared her throat.

Oh, fuck. Daryl didn't want to deal with this. "Eli."

"It's not what you think," Grey started, standing up and wearing an unbutton shirt and an poorly adjusted belt. "We were studying."

Eli rolled her eyes and pulled her shirt back over her head, rising. "No, we weren't. We were making out. I don't study." She bit into an apple she grabbed off the table. "I listen in class."

Daryl shook his head. "I don't want to know this."

"Yeah." Grey dragged a hand through his hair.

"Button up." Daryl removed his belt and set it beside his crossbow. "You stayin' for dinner?"

Eli's brows rose. "Can I?"

"Why not? You're already makin' yourself at home." He walked into the kitchen to get a glass of water. "Just don't do it on my couch."

"We aren't going to have sex," Eli assured him. "I told my dads as much."

"What?" Greyson's face went beet red. "You told them?! About us? And that?"

She sat on a bar stool and mimicked his voice. "That? It's sex, Grey, and yeah. I tell my dads everything. And Judith."

"Judith?!"

She giggled and ate more of the apple, happy to have something sweet and moist in her mouth. She could still taste the soap Greyson used on her lips. It was homemade crud they all used, and it was effective, but tasted gross. The oils they added only helped scent, not taste. Bleck.

Daryl chugged the glass of water down and cleared his throat, looking from Greyson to Eli and trying to figure out what to say. Carol was the one who said. He just listened. He didn't know how to handle this. Shit, Carol made all the moves. He just...let her. "So...you two?"

Eli nodded. "Since last week. We got caught on the ropes course." She laughed at the memory. "The one for the kids? We were messing around with Wyatt and Annie, and his foot got caught. I went up to help, but... I didn't help the situation much." It was dark out, Annie was on the swings, and Wyatt was playing with the soccer ball. Eli had been planning getting Greyson alone, and he made the perfect circumstance. She pretended to be caught too, and they talked till Wyatt took Annie home then she made her move. Dad always said to ask first, but it felt right. She asked after that, just to be sure. She knew he liked her—the whole town had told her such pretty much all her life—but she didn't want to assume. She wanted to know. She wanted his approval. Which he gave.

Daryl nodded.

"I need to check on Harold." Grey excused himself to look in on the rabbit Keela had given him for his birthday and as a goodbye gift. He had spent the month there to learn from her since Maggie was busy with Judith and Sage, and Dad didn't want him to go, but he was sixteen. He was growing up, and he wanted to grow along with this world. After all they'd done to secure it, how could he not want to learn how to take care of it? Of them? He made a speech to sway him, and Dad gave in, though he came along for the first couple of weeks. He went home after the third week to give Greyson some room to breathe, and it was the best time of his life. He learned so much and experienced their routine and their hardships and success. It was incredible. And he got Harry out of it, so it was a bonus on top of a bonus.

"Do you love him?" Daryl asked once Grey was out of the room.

"I won't hurt him," Eli instead responded. "I'm fond of him. He's...adorable, really. He can drill a walker between the eyes at a hundred paces but can't ask to hold my hand at the movies. And he won't kiss me in front of other people, but he sure does like to..." She trailed off, remembering this wasn't Judith, but the father of her boyfriend. "I won't hurt him."

"Why now?" He leaned against the counter.

She set the half-eaten apple down on the counter and met his eyes. "Because he killed the spider in my room."

Daryl's eyebrows furrowed in extreme confusion. "What?"

"There's been a huge spider in my room for a month now. My dad wanted me to kill it, but Dad wanted me to put it outside. I didn't want to do either, because I hate spiders. They're gross and hairy and monsters. I wish they would die." She shook her head. "But, um, anyway, Grey dropped off my gun since I'd left it at the wall the night before, and he killed the spider. He didn't even ask, just looked at me and knew I wanted it dead. It was cool and kinda hot." He would wear a serious expression when he killed anything—spider, walker, bug, person—and while it shouldn't be hot, it was very hot. She wanted to jump him and kiss him then, but it wasn't the right time. He had spider goo on his hand, and she probably would have gone too far. She had no restraint. She tried, but the older she got...the more it faded. But he had high restraint. He wasn't ready. She would wait for him to be. She wouldn't force him to do something only she wanted. She knew him well, and he wasn't there. He was sixteen and still awkward. He still had more of himself to figure out before he shared himself fully with her. She was happy to wait. He was worth it.

"I care about him," she continued. "He makes me happy, and I feel things. Like bubbles in my chest, and it feels good. He makes me feel good, and I think I make him feel the same, so I want to keep feeling this way with him for as long as it lasts."

Daryl smiled faintly, tapping his ring finger on the counter once. "I understand that."

"I wanted to tell you, but you look so lonely all the time. I didn't want to make you jealous." She leaned over the counter, using it to hold her weight as she set her knees on the seat of the stool.

"Jealous?"

"You're happy when you're with him, like...hit the stars happy, and you don't look lonely. I was worried if you knew about us, you'd feel like I'm taking him away from you. I didn't want you to start to hate me because of that."

"I couldn't hate you."

"Lots of people hate me. I'm loud and impulsive and reckless. I'm the reason my dad only has one arm, and I'm the reason Grey has a scar on his knee. I cause a lot of chaos, and I don't mean to. I just don't think before I act."

"You're eighteen. You have time to learn."

"I'm eighteen in a walkers' world; I should have learned a long time ago." She met his eyes. "But I am trying. I don't want to worry him. He worries enough, like his mom, no doubt. So I'm trying to improve myself for me and my dads and Greyson."

That caught his attention. "His mom? He talks about Carol to you?"

"All the time." She smiled warmly. "He loves her, and it's so sweet how he talks about her. He...carries her in his heart, and he thinks highly of her. I don't think anybody could love her more—aside from you, of course."

That brought the ghost of a smile across his lips. "You're right there."

"Do you think she would have liked me? As a person, as someone worthy to be with her son?" She searched his eyes, trying to find an answer she truly wanted, and she swallowed. "Or would she not like me? Like most people..."

"Carol loved you," he informed her. "She was with you and Judy when she was still pregnant. She thought the world of you. You were a sweet child, a good friend to Judith, and now you're growing into an admirable adult. You take your duties seriously. You don't slack off because you've had a bad day. You're kind to the newcomers, even the ones who don't like you, and you're good to my son. I can see he loves you. He may not know it, but I do. He looks at you like I looked at his mother, and while I don't know what the future has in store for you both, I hope it's good things. You both deserve good things."

She smiled faintly. "I won't love anyone else." It wasn't a statement by her tone; it was a fact. "When I fall in love with him, there won't be anyone else after. I can feel it, you know? Like when it's about rain? Or when we used to play "War" and mud pies would come for me, but I'd know when to dodge."

"You're intuitive." Like your mother, his mind cruelly threw out at him, and he winced inwardly. "It's a good trait to have."

"My dad says the same thing—about it being good to have." She leaned back on the stool. "I'm not so sure. I feel things that I don't like, and it's weird. Like when you're dreaming, but you can move and know it's you. It's...surreal sometimes."

"You ever see or feel anything bad?"

She shook her head. "Not that I can remember. It's all...cryptic and junk. I'm pretty sure most of it is the cold zucchini leftovers I eat before bed every night." She laughed then. "That's what my other dad tells me."

"I can see Aaron saying that."

"So, she liked me, huh?" She smiled to herself. "I think I liked her. I'm not sure, but I think I dream of her smile sometimes. It looks like the smile I see in the pictures of the woman in Greyson's room. It makes me feel safe. Loved, even. I wish I could have seen it in person. I know Greyson would give the world to see her in person, too, but he knows better. I guess I'm just stubborn. Or stupid."

"...you're not stupid." This came out raw, the words barely chocking by the emotion swirling up in this throat.

She grimaced. "No, I am. To talk about her like this with you, I am. I'm so sorry." She slid off the stool and walked around the counter to hug him. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. If anyone wants her in person... I'm sorry."

He swallowed and set a hand in between her shoulder blades in a small way to accept her hug. He could feel his eyes burning, but he didn't want to cry. He hadn't cried about what happened in years. He was doing fine. He laughed. He explored. He lived. He was functioning as a human being and a father, and while sixteen years wasn't enough time to mend his broken heart, it was enough to begin the first layer of stitching, so why...?

"You'll see her again one day," Eli whispered. "I feel it."

"Dad..." Greyson walked over to them, Eli moved so that he could hug him, and Daryl wrapped his arms tightly around his son, unable to keep the tears away now. Greyson knew it was a difficult subject, so he went to his family for stories of his mother. He never talked about her with Dad unless he brought it up. He didn't tell Eli that. He supposed now he would have to.

Eli set a hand on Daryl's shoulder, and she hoped her words brought him some sort of comfort. He would be with her again, and while she didn't know when or how or if wasn't some weird food dream, she was sure it was something. It had to be.

––

"Hey." Eli was waiting by the gate for him. "You ready? I am."

Greyson nodded, not saying much.

"Is something wrong?" She tilted her head to the side.

"No." He checked the straps to the rifle on is back and cleared his throat. "We'll be back by tomorrow, and they'll be strengthening the walls. I don't like the smell of the mixture they use. I wish we could be gone longer."

"It's doable."

He shook his head. "My dad doesn't need to worry that I died out there, because you want to screw around. We have a two day mission to just round up some game. That's all. Nothing more."

She felt like he'd slapped her in the face, so she nodded, her brow flicking upward. "Fine. Let's just go." She turned on her heel and walked away.

They passed through the gates, a voice called to them before they were out, and Greyson was nearly knocked to the ground by Annie's embrace. She held him firmly, and he couldn't breathe. He didn't know she had such strength, but he was happy she came to see him off. He had to beg his dad not to, because he wanted him to get some rest and not worry so much about him. There was no stopping Annie, however.

"Be careful." She released him and met his eyes. "Sage will be so mad if you get hurt."

"Yeah, Sage." He chuckled. "I'll be fine. I have my gun, a knife, and backup. We'll be good."

"You'll probably twist an ankle at worst." Eli rolled her eyes at him before he could respond and walked through the gates so he wouldn't talk to her.

"You made her mad?" Annie frowned. "Why now? You have a run, and you shouldn't be mad at each other. Plus, she's your girlfriend. You're supposed to treat her best. You're not supposed to make her angry."

"What makes you think I did anything?"

"Because only you and her dads can make her angry. Everyone else gets irritation or a cold shoulder, but you three get her wrath if you summon it." She scolded him. "Make it right, Grey. Whatever happened, make it right, please. You need each other out there."

"I know how to handle this, but thanks, kid." He hugged her once more. "Take care of Sage. I'll see you later."

"Okay." She watched him catch up to Eli, and they fell into step together as they strolled down the road, a sizable distance between them. She shook her head and hoped they would be all right.

The pair walked the road for about twenties minutes before turning left down the old hunting road, Eli skipped down the rock steps, and Greyson told her to be careful. She actually humphed him and continued to do it, waltzing on ahead without waiting for him. He scoffed and caught up to her, nearly sliding in the mud. She aped his previous words and walked onward.

"Real mature." He knocked his boots against a tree before following after her.

"Okay, then how about suck my tit?" She threw an icy look back at him. "Is that better?"

"No. It's not. You heard Annie—we need to watch each others' backs out here."

"You watch my back pretty well, don't you think?"

"That's not how I meant."

"Had I known about that, I wouldn't have worn my fitting jeans." She stepped over a log and inhaled deeply. "Don't talk. Walkers'll hear."

"That's bull." He grabbed her arm loosely. "Look, I can explain—"

"No need. Go ahead and take all your bad moods out on me. It's completely justified." She jerked her arm back and ran ahead.

"Eli!"

"Shush!" She hissed. "We're hunting, so let's just freaking hunt. Being loud will scare the animals. I'd rather not have to kill another cow. I like milk."

He nodded and caught up to her. "Just...stay close to me."

"Ditto."

––

Maggie rolled her sleeves up to take over stirring for one of the older women who couldn't take it any longer, Enid came over and clipped them up for her with a smile, and Maggie thanked her. She took her position back on the other side of the wide bucket to add the rest of the ingredients in. This made it like super cement. Nothing broke this stuff. It was a thank you gift from Tanner, one of the new members of the construction crew and about a month settled into their community. She was a little nutty, but it was entirely in an endearing way. She was going to whip those boy into shape since Abe wasn't able to lead them. He was currently out on injury, so things were bound to change by the time he got back. Hopefully it was all for the best.

"How's everything?" Maggie asked through the mask she wore.

"Define everything." Enid shock the bag empty and squinted her eyes to keep the dust that kicked up upon the bag emptying.

"You and your husband." She put more effort into mixing it as it thickened. "It's been about five years since that day."

She smiled behind her own mask. "You're not asking me to make grandchildren, are you?"

"God, no." She laughed at that idea, nearly cringing at it. "I'm just checking in. It's been a few months since we met up for dinner. We should do that again sometime. Maybe tonight?"

"I'd like that. Carl has the wall this afternoon, so he'll be off before dinner." She lifted her eyes to Maggie's. "I've been meaning to check in on Sage, let him know who's boss. We both know Annie won't."

"She's too busy chasing Wyatt." Maggie rolled her eyes. "Spencer think she likes him, but it's not like that. She...is trying to mother him."

"Mother him?" Enid frowned. "Rosita does that."

"I know, but lately Annie seems to want a project, and apparently that's Wyatt. I think it's related to her school project. It's just something to do pass time, but she's taking it so seriously. She's keeping a journal on him and all this stuff. Glenn's a little worried, but she assures us it's purely scientific."

"Ooh, got a future head doctor there." Enid added more water to mixture to ease the stirring burden it was putting on Maggie's arms.

"I already told Denise she would have a different type of student soon, and she was stoked. I think she wants to get back to her roots. She's been trying for a while now, but with our growing population and small amount of trained doctors, we need her." She helped herself to a moment's rest, her arms already aching. Who needed dead weight when they had this? "Uggh."

"Some of the people that saw our signs have some medical knowledge. Mostly nurses, but we can train them for the rest. Neva and I talked about it. We want to give Denise a room in the clinic to assist them. Carl and I have set up her office, so all we have now to do is show her. It's a walk from home, but it's not like we can move her out there."

"Well, I hear things have been a bit strained with Wyatt and Rosita lately. He's growing up, and he needs more space to do it. I've been talking to Rosita about moving to a new place, but she's comfortable there." She began to stir before it settled and shrugged a shoulder. "I talked to Tara, and she wants to see a new part of town every morning. She's considering the move. We have an open house."

"That's awesome. It'll make our surprise even better if Denise agrees."

Maggie lifted her eyes. "Are you happy?"

Enid blinked and chuckled softly. "I am. It's...a good life with Carl. We have a good relationship, and our baby is going just fine. Steals our bed and the couch and tracks mud into the house, but we're trying to train him. Mostly, he's just too cute to yell at."

"You need to train him, or he'll get worse. Trust me, I have Luck as proof."

"Aww, how is Luck? I haven't been by to check in or do our daily walks."

"Loud and untrained and precious." She chuckled. "Glenn's the favorite. I just provide the food and snuggles and walks."

"Glenn falls sleep with food, so it's just about food. Luck favors you."

"I don't feel like a favorite in that house. Everyone loves Glenn. Still. Sage won't forgive me for the watermelon!"

Enid busted out laughing. "Still?"

"Yeah, still!" She laughed with her. "He glares at me every time I pull a quarter out of the fridge. He says he isn't when I tell him to stop, but it's hard to not see. He has those big brown eyes, and I can see just fine."

"I'll talk to him about it. I've changed his diapers. I have leverage."

"Don't blackmail your brother."

"That's the only good thing about having a brother."

"Yeah, that's true." She pulled the yardstick out of the mixture to let it thicken. "Annie feels like there's a hole in the house without you."

She hugged her arms. "I miss waking up with her, too, but I'm all grown up and married. I wake up with my husband now, and I... I see Annie all the time."

"It's the late night talks she misses most. I've run into her sitting in the kitchen with Luck and a cup of tea, just talkin' away to Luck. She'll say she misses you to him. It breaks my heart, because she had you for years and then...you're gone. Her best friend. I understand it, but she's still young. And I can't be there for her as a best friend. I'm her mother, and I can't be both. If I could, I would, but...it's not in the cards."

"This is a guilt trip so I'll stay over, isn't it?"

"No, I want you to...invite Annie over."

"Oh. Really?"

"Yes, really. She'd like to see the new houses, and I'm sure she'd like to get to know Carl as her brother-in-law and your husband now." Maggie pulled her mask down. "And honestly, if I can't get an hour alone with Glenn, I'm going to snap."

Enid snickered. "Knew it. You wanted something."

"Yes, my husband. Preferably tonight, so please? Sage and Maya have a sleepover at Sasha and Abe's, and I can't boot Annie's out. Grey's out on a run, and she's not fond of spending time with Wyatt beyond the study."

"It's fine. We don't have anything planned, and I've love to just sit back with Annie and talk like we used to."

"Maybe Carl can keep Rick company. I know how you to girls get. You forget the rest of the world exists and just chat away. It's sweet, but not so much for non-parental onlookers. It can be lonely. It would upset Sage that his "sissies" were ignoring him."

"Aww, I should apologize."

"Nah, he's fine with it now. He has school and lessons, so he doesn't think too much on it. Just the eternal watermelon grudge."

"Well, you were cruel for not letting him chew on it."

"Do you want to be a part of that wall? I'll use this to glue you here. You won't get to leave."

"I'm kidding. I'm kidding." She held her hands up.

Maggie yanked her mask down. "This has to sit for a few minutes. Let's grab a grape juice."

"Sounds good."

Maggie wrapped an arm around her and guided her over the coolers Olivia had set up by their strengthening team.

––

Eli snuggled closer to the hollowed back of the tree and inhaled the overpowering scent of rot. She didn't like it, but she didn't want to climb a tree. She was too exhausted from storming away from Grey like a child. She wanted to make a point, and it had been made. He was sitting on a rock away from her, keeping guard, and he hadn't said anything to her since he handed her dinner. A nice bowl of owl. It was rough going down. It needed...to be something else that was eatable, honestly.

She sighed and crawled out of the tree, exhaling and walking over to him. "Talk to me, dude."

"Will you even listen?" He cast his eyes towards the darkness.

"I wouldn't have asked if I weren't willing to listen." She set her hands on his thighs, he stiftened, and she sat down between his legs, using his thigh like an armrest. "Let's talk it out."

"Could you not sit there?" He tried to move a little but ended up falling off the other end of the rock. "Ow."

"You okay?" She was trying not to laugh, because what the hell was that?

"Don't laugh at me." He was blushing, but luckily she couldn't see.

"Why'd you do that?" She helped him stand up. "I used to sit like that all the time when we were younger."

"Yeah, well we're not younger." He dusted himself off.

"What? Do you like me being between your legs?" She said it innocently, but he knew if he could see her face it expressed anything but innocence.

"Eli, you know why. We've been down that road before."

"It's just a reaction. I like it."

"Yeah, well, I don't."

She inhaled. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"Yeah, it is. Or I hope it is." She sat down on the ground and stretched her legs before pulling them up to her chest. "I like to think it's my fault."

"That's weird."

"How is it weird? It means you want me. I like that."

He sat beside her. "Then why... Never mind."

"You know why. You're not ready for that, no matter how your body reacts to me. You have a lot on your plate right now, and I don't want to confuse things. I want us to be simple until I love you. Then once I love you, it's okay to get messy and complicated. It's supposed to get that way, I think. At least over certain things."

He pulled his legs in and rested his arms on his knees. "May I ask you something?"

"Shoot." She made a finger gun and pulled the trigger as she said it.

"Do you want me like that? I mean, you know I feel it. It's visible, but...do you feel like that?"

"Of course I do." She leaned against the tree. "I think about it a lot. I like how it makes me feel. I hope it feels even better when we're together."

"No pressure..."

She chuckled. "Keep focusing on school and life problems, kid."

"I'm not that much younger than you."

"I know, but if the old laws were in place, it'd mean a hell of a lot."

"You're only eighteen. Maybe, it's not like anybody has an accurate way of telling time."

"Then invent one."

"That's more for Eugene than me."

"You don't know what there is for you. You haven't even discovered what your passion is."

"Eli, all I know is that I want a future with you. I have my wall rotations and patrols, so it's fine if you're here."

"It's not fine. You need to find something you want to do. Something you love and are driven to get better at. I want to be a runner. I'm so excited about it that my heart stops, and my nerves lit on fire. I get to ensure communication between our towns, and I get to be included in any major changes by extension. God, my skin is humming just thinking about it." She gripped her shoulders and smiled. "I know I'll do well there."

"I don't know where I fit in, to be honest. My mom was both a warrior and a healer, my father ran construction, and my dad is a hunter. A tracker. I don't fit into any of those shoes. Trust me, I've tried. I worsened Annie's rash. I—I destroyed an entire unit in the clinic, and I'm pretty sure you're the real hunter here. I'm just the muscle."

"You're an awesome tracker."

"Dad taught me how. That doesn't mean I can do something with it. I want to belong, but I feel out of place here, like an accident. Maybe I was. No one ever says, but...they don't have to."

"Every baby before Annie as an accident." Eli shrugged. "You, me, Judith, Wyatt. We weren't on purpose. We simply are, and that's okay. We'll make our purpose with our parents' unconditional love. That's how I see it. My dads support me, and I'm a mess, dude. You know Daryl loves you more than anything. And don't get me started on your mom—"

"Why did you bring her up when you talked to him?" he cut her off, an anger to his tone. "Why do that?"

"I...had a question. Daryl had the answer."

"You shouldn't have brought her up."

"He's a grown man. He can handle the mention of her."

"He shouldn't have to."

"He isn't going to forget her or her loss simply because no one is talking about her. He always feels that, like his heartbeat. There isn't an escape from that." Her lips formed a line. "That's why you're mad at me? Over her? Over that?"

"He shouldn't have to be in pain, because you're curious. I know he feels it all the time, but he didn't have a breakdown about it until you asked."

"Maybe it was building up, and he needed that release."

"Bullshit."

"You're bullshit." She glared at him. "You're pissed, because I'm not scared of talking about her? That's utter bullshit. Carol's memory shouldn't be restricted to pictures and thoughts. It should be spoken of and often to keep her near."

"She's near without the mention of her life."

"No, that keeps her away. She wants you to know her, to talk about her, to feel the loss. The loss, not the pain, because that's the whole point of living. You feel the weight of living, and you embrace it all. If you don't, it'll just crush you and move on."

"It's killing him."

"He's surviving it, because of you."

"I took her from him, Eli. You don't know what that's like. He... he sometimes calls me by her name. If he just sees my eyes when I wake him up. If he hears me walking around upstairs and doesn't know it's me, he'll say her name. Like he's calling to her, and she won't come because of me. I ruined his life."

The next thing he knew was the ground being smacked into his shoulder. He rolled onto his back and found Eli on top of him, her nails digging into his shoulders, and she was trying to keep from yelling. He could tell by how strained her voice was. She was beyond pissed.

"Shut up. You don't know anything. He loves you and is grateful for you. How could he not be? You'll carry Carol and everything she ever was and could be with you throughout your life and to your children. She gets to have a piece of her live forever through you. You have no right to say that was a mistake—that you're a mistake. If that was true, she would have gotten rid of you. She didn't. She loved you. He loves you. People are grateful for you. They love you and care about you, and you don't get to wallow. You don't get to fucking wallow and make it all about you when it's not! People die all the time, and you can't help that! Carol happened to die the same day you were born, but that's not on you! It's just how that played out, just like me and my mom! She's gone, but I'm here. I won't let that hold me back from enjoying my life, because she had me. She brought me into this world, and I made my way here with the love and support of my parents. I'm here, and I intend to make a mark on this world for the better. That's what people do. What they oughta do, not think thoughts like that. Not blame themselves for things they had no control over."

"Eli—"

"You were a few minutes old, you prick. You had no say. You did nothing but breathe. Don't say things like that!"

"I—I'm sorry."

"You'd better be because there's a man back home that would be crushed if he ever heard you say those things. They're lies! You didn't ruin anything. Life is cruel, but we have no control over what life decides, only how we react. Daryl reacted by being the best damn dad he could, and he raised a good guy. Don't stomp on that, because you feel guilty over an error of the human body."

"You know a lot about her... why?"

"Because, you dummy, she made you, and I..." She trailed off and lifted her head. "Shit. Get up."

He was ripped to his feet by her before he could process what she saw, and she pulled him deeper into the woods. She knew this path by heart from her childhood, and they could get to the base she made in the tree with supplies she stole from construction. She was a crafty child, very easily bored with school, and she watched the construction crew from the window. She more about building than whatever the lesson of the day was.

"Here. Climb."

"Climb what?"

She took his hand and let him feet the ladder nailed into the tree. He went up first, and she followed, hearing the growls nearing. She wasted no time, having climb this so many times when she was young. She pulled herself up after him and was relief to see the wood was still sturdy. She was grateful for that. Less for the fact that she had left her backpack in the tree hollow, but if she was lucky, she would reclaim it with no trouble in the morning. She needed to not yell at Grey until then, and he just needed to stop being a dummy until then.

"What is this?"

"A twelve year old's version of a tree house." She shifted her feet. "Why do you think I left so often?"

"For kicks?"

"No, for this. I liked being out here building it. It was fun. Especially when I asked Abe on support, and he didn't know what I was talking about. He was a big help, though." Especially when Sasha distracted him, and he didn't properly lock the tool shed. Thanks Sash.

"If you hadn't yelled—"

"It was coming anyway." She huffed. "And we are so not done talking."

"I know in my heart and brain I didn't ruin his life, Eli, but it doesn't make the pain there any easier, okay? I don't need a pep talk. Or to be yelled out. I wanted to vent, and sure, it was depressing, but I didn't mean it. It just came out, because I'm upset. I'm allowed that."

"You're never allowed to determined how much better the quality of life will be for someone who loves you and cares about you if you're not there. You're real, Greyson, so if you weren't here, Carol would have miscarried. There is no other way to paint this. You died, or she did. Daryl still has pain in his eyes. And so would I."

"You?"

"Yes, you dipshit. I care about you. I knew you when you were a fetus. Sorta. I don't remember it, but people tell me about it. I see pictures of it. I would miss you. I miss you when you don't come to class, so yeah, I'd miss you."

"You miss me when I don't come to class?" The smile was apparent in his voice. Darkness or no, she didn't need it to know it was huge.

"You were sick, and I was bored," she tried to backtrack.

"Eli."

"I already said it. Don't make me repeat myself. You have death issues. Let's focus on that."

"I don't."

"You'd better not. I don't want a world without you. No matter how great Carol is. If I want her, you'd have to be there, too."

"I wish it had worked out like that."

"She's still with you, body or no. You love someone that much, it sticks. She's still here. Somewhere. On some other plane." She smiled softly. "I feel her when I'm with you sometimes, like..a warning. It keeps me in check. I just hope it isn't always there."

"That... that's actually comforting."

"I meant for it to be."

"Thank you, Eli."

"Thank me by shutting up...," a blush crossed her cheeks, "and holding me."

He chuckled. "Then come here." He wrapped his arms around her, kissing her hair, and she buried her face in his chest. It was the first time Greyson had really been able to hold her. He liked how she felt against him. She was small enough to fit against the curves of his body, and he liked all of it. He wanted to do this more often, but she wasn't the type to be still, so he doubted it.

"Could I kiss you?" Eli murmured against his chest.

"What?" He moved back.

"I just wanted a goodnight kiss. It's usually a forehead kiss by my dads, but since it's you, I'd prefer the mouth. Less weird."

He chuckled and lightly kissed her. "Good night."

She buried her smile in his chest. "Night."

– – –

"What do you mean, it works?" Maggie looked up from her desk at Eugene, who had supposedly gotten his communication devices working.

"I mean exactly what I told you. The device is opperational. I can't positively say how accurate the long-range capabilites are, but I can assure that the short range are excellent. I'll confirm the long range during the run Rosita and Wyatt are going on."

"Wow. I'm honestly surprised. It took you six years, so I thought it was just...unfeasible." She stood up and smiled at him. "That's great, Eugene. It could really help us out, save us time and people going forward with planning and expansion on the Hilltop's part. We might even be able to bring the Kingdom into this."

"I've supplied both Keela and Ezekiel with two of the coms. Eli and Jose departed to take them to each leader. Wyatt is currently testing the range. If it continues to provide a clear message then I'll allow him and Rosita to use them on their run."

She nodded. "Hold off on that. We'll test them in a different way if it can reach Keela and Zeke."

"All right." He handed the device over. "This one is to be yours."

"Thank you." She accepted it. "I really appreciate this, Eugene."

"May I?" Judith was already on her feet and holding her hands out for the object.

"Here. Be careful."

"Of course." She inspected it and sat down at her desk. "It looks heavy, but it's not. It feels a pound or two heavier than walkie. It's held together well. You can hardly see any loose wires. I wouldn't take it out in the rain, though."

Maggie smiled at her partner in office. "Oh, yeah? What else?"

Before Judith could continue in came a group of little kids with flyers for their production tonight. Michonne thought it would do the kids good to perform plays and out on shows of their now and then. It helped lower the walls and anxiety of the younger members of their town. It brought smiles and laughter in the other members, and it was an all around good time. Whether the play sucked or not, it was piece of what the world and life was like before. It meant everything to the elderly folks here, and it eased a world-worn heart like no other to see kids being kids and just giving their all out there on the stage. It was precious, a winning idea, and Michonne was happen to help direct. Although the kids were starting to get a hang of it and wanted to give it a shot, which was what tonight was. A purely kid written and driven show. It was called Frog Jam. No one was sure if they meant music or the food. It would be interesting, for sure.

"Will Zeke be here to see the show?" Magda asked, a young Northerner who's family had shuffled their way here. She was a sweet girl and the mastermind behind their show. Maggie also suspected she was blown away the Ezekiel's last visit with Shiva. She might have to ask him to come down and do another reading for the kids. They couldn't get enough of him.

After Eli and Judith found the Kingdom on a run, they were quickly brought into hers and Keela's agreement. Jesus admitted to know of the Kingdom, but he didn't want to make any introductions. A lot was going on on both sides, and he had been busy assisting Keela in securing their town. Maggie didn't have a problem with. She was just happy to have someone else at the talks—a fresh set of eyes—and it didn't hurt that he was a corny guy. The kids loved it. He made them feel so safe, like a King from a storybook. Shiva only added to that appeal. It brought the entire town joy to see those once traumatized into not speaking kids smile and laugh and cheer for Ezekiel. He was a good man, a gentle soul that seemed to sooth the kids in a way Tara or Gabriel couldn't.

Thankfully he wasn't all words and soothing gestures. When they came into contact with a sizable group that tried to take all they had worked for, the three of them fought back. The destroyed that group, erased them from the face of their earth. They had taken some losses from each community, and they had a ceremony to honor them and to mourn. People spoke on behalf of their lost loved ones, people brought flowers and homemade goodies, people were united and there for each other. Strangers became friends, and eventually, over time, some became lovers and left town to be with their partner. Maggie seen several people leave for the Hilltop or the Kingdom to be with the ones they loved, and she had greeted several people as well. Her and Judith both. Greetings were easier, but Judith insisted on saying goodbye and wishing friends the best of luck. It was a bittersweet moment, but knowing there were choices and love and places beyond there for people to go felt like a small slice of the world had been reclaimed. Alexandria, the Hilltop and the Kingdom were winning their war against the dead. People were winning. That did so much good. It was a lovely fact.

"Not tonight, sweetie." She bent down and grasped one of her braids. "He'll stop by soon, and I'll be sure to bring him by the school, okay?"

"With Shiva, right?" Thomas pleaded. "Please, he has to bring her! She's so awesome!"

"I'll ask, but no promises, all right?"

"Yes!"

Maggie chuckled. So much for no promises. Shiva would have to join them. "All right, I have business, but I will see you all tonight for the show. We're all so excited to see what you came up with on your own."

"We'll make you laugh!"

"You'll love it!"

"I only have a small part!"

"You have to come and see it! Front row!"

They all started to talk over each other and the rest was drowned out, Maggie laughed light-heartedly and hushed them, guiding them out into the hall towards the door. She spoke with them on the way out and assured them she would be there front seat with Glenn. They were all so ecstatic. They ran down the street towards the stage to rehearse. She was looking forward to seeing what exactly Frog Jam was. It couldn't be too awful. Right?

––

"We have to go soon," he said when her lips briefly left his. "That play's tonight. We promised—"

She kissed him. "I know what we promised, but I don't want to go tonight. They'll run it againt tomorrow, so we can just...stay in bed and hang out."

"No one hangs out in bed." He pushed himself up. "I promised the kids I'd be there to support them."

"Will they honestly notice if you're not there?" She set a hand on his neck. "I haven't gotten to see you in weeks. I've been so busy with runs, and you with the school training. I really want to spend tonight with just you. My dads are out, and we have the whole place to ourselves."

"I don't want your dads coming home early to find us...like that. Especially since we haven't done this before. I don't want to be interrupted."

"Okay, that was one time, and they just wanted to know if you wanted chili, too."

"That's not the point."

"I know, but I wanted to point that out. If you hadn't left your shoes downstairs, they wouldn't have known, and we could have had a very good night."

"But we didn't, and there's about a million other reasons they could have come up here. Let's just stop bringing it up."

"Then when, Greyson? If it's not my dads, it's yours. It's not like there's a place we can go and do this all romantic and la la la. We have jobs. I have to leave in two days for another run to the Kingdom. You have that exam with Michonne tomorrow. It's four hours." She searched his eyes. "I don't want to rush it, but I want...to be with you. I miss you. I feel like I haven't been with you since I got back. You're somewhere else. What's going on?"

"Nothing's going on. I'm just... I missed you too."

She groaned and climbed off her bed, removing her shirt for a less wrinkled one.

"What? You don't want me to miss you?"

"Do you even like me?" She whirled around, adjusting the hem of her sweater. "Honestly? Am I just a fun thing to mess around with? Is there someone else you want? Because all you ever do is avoid this. You don't even get excited about it anymore. You just...deflect. If I wanted to date Daryl about forty years ago, I'd build a time machine. That way I'd at least have legit ice cream Dad always talks about."

"I don't deflect."

"Yes, you do." She crossed her arms. "And I don't want to argue this with you. You have kids to tend to. I'll just hang out with Wyatt. He hates the shows. Maybe we could find something to do." Like leave the town for a bit. If her boyfriend was going to put up his walls, she had to make herself feel better by scaling a different set of walls. Physical walls.

"You're blowing off the show? For Wyatt?"

"No, I'm blowing off the show, because I don't want to see it. I've watched them rehearse, so I've already seen it. I'm good. Wyatt and I can blow off some steam outside the walls, kill some walkers. Do...something."

"Well, have fun."

"You, too." She walked out of the room, grabbing her coat and shoving her feet into her tennis shoes. She was out of the house before Greyson was out of her room, and she ran to the wall. She knew Wyatt would be at the show. He had a thing for Annie right now, and he would be there to talk to her. So it would just be Eli and the woods, just like childhood. Just like the rest of her life apparently. No one wanted to let her in, not even her dads. They had secrets, too. As a kid she wondered what they were and if they would share them with her, but after all this time, she knew they wouldn't, and she wouldn't figure them out. Not even his secrets, the ones she wanted to know, the ones she wanted him to trust her enough to speak to her about. The ones that burdened him so that she could help. He wasn't going to let her, though. Not now or ever.

She ran through the leaves from the past falls, her hair loose and blowing back in her face when she made sudden stops. She felt herself feel the air around her, not the fear, not the danger. She spun herself and reached for the sky. She wouldn't allow herself to come back down.

For hours, she wouldn't let herself return. As the sun began its descent, as her shadow began to fade, as the wind began to chill, she didn't stop. She moved alongside the breeze, among the leaves that crunched under her feet, and among the trees that stood ever stationary and grand. She was among them, alongside them, but never with them. She was an outsider. She did not belong. Would she ever?

She whirled around, her foot catching in a tree root, and she cried out at the sickening crunch her muscles gave as she crumbled to the ground, her ankle caught. She knew it wasn't broken, simply twisted—again—and she cursed. She pulled it free gently and rotated it, sucking in a air sharply at the pangs it shot through her lower leg.

"Ooooh." She blew out air and looked around, realizing only now she was miles from Alexandria. She swept the hairs that blocked her view out of her face and pulled her knife from her hip holster. She tore through her shirt thick and wrapped it tightly around her ankle, forcing herself to stand up using the assistance of the tree. She huffed out more air and stumbled towards home.

Geez. I really need to be more aware, she thought to herself. People were busy with the play, if anything happened to her, there would be no immediate search party. People didn't notice her anyway. Sure, she had fire red hair and skin just a shade darker than snow, but she blended in well. She liked that. She didn't want to stand out, however that hurt her in this instance. Oh, well. She knew the way home—mostly—and she wasn't afraid of whatever this world wanted to throw at her. She could take it.

A hand clamped down on her shoulder, she gasped and slammed her elbow into the rib cage of the unknown attacker. He groaned, and she halted, knowing the sound.

"Greyson?!" She spun round and found him wheezing, holding his side. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know you—Wait, why are you out here?"

"Dying..." He wheezed, sure she had bruised a rib. "Jesus."

"Is that a joke, or are people really dying?" she pressed.

"It's...mostly a joke." He rubbed his side with a wince. "You lied."

"How?" She cocked a brow and folded her arms over her chest.

"Wyatt was at the play. You just left without telling anybody or signing the check-out sheet." He turned a foul glare on her. "Do you know how stupid that is? You could have been killed!"

"I can protect myself."

"Then why is your shirt around your ankle?"

"I didn't say I had spectacular balance."

"Eli, you need to be more careful. We're too old to be doing this."

She scoffed. "We've always had to be "too old". We were never young, Greyson. We just had smaller bodies."

"What?"

"I never got to be a child, not like our parents. I had to be a warrior. I had to be a survivor. Sure, a couple rounds of ball is all well and good, but I wanted more. Forgive me for acting a bit "young" now when no one is breathing down my neck so I can be "safe"."

"That's stupid. Being reckless isn't what being young is about!"

"Well, it can't be this." She stepped back, ignoring the pain sprouting inside her ankle. "It can't be."

"I know it's rules and work, but that's life. We'll make something better of it. Something great."

"It's not home. I'm fine with rules and work, but I can't..." Her voice broke. "I can't help but feel like I'm wrong there. I can't...put words into it, but I see it sometimes in the older groups. Grandma says I'm being silly, but nobody ever mentions certain things. Like my mother. Or my father."

"They're dead. What is there to talk about?"

"You have plenty to talk about when it comes to Carol, plenty of pictures and stories, but me? No pictures, not one story, just...whatever you wanna call that birth story. A lie? Yeah, that seems right."

"Eli." A heartbroken sound.

"Am I a product of something foul? Is that why I had to take extra steps to get a gun? To get my first knife? To go on runs? To not be supervised on the wall? They say I'm talented yet watch me, so why? I have done nothing wrong, and yet...I see Morgan watching me. Always watching, like I'm a time bomb."

"He wants to teach you," Greyson revealed. "He's wanted to teach you since you were a kid. Dad told me so. He trained my mom, too. It sounds kinda cool."

"He doesn't want me to kill then."

"Why would you want to?"

"So I can keep you safe." She moved towards him. "If people came after us, I want to feel confident that I can keep you safe."

"I can keep myself safe."

"You don't like to kill."

"Who likes to kill? People or walkers. They're all the same."

"No, people are much worse." She scrutinized his eyes in the darkness. "I won't let people hurt you."

"Why don't we simply watch each's backs? How about that?"

She exhaled. "Fair, I suppose."

"Let's go home." He smiled at her. "Wrap up that ankle. Get you some food."

She nodded, and he wrapped his arm around her waist. "What, no piggyback ride? I'm wounded."

"Those are for Annie," he responded with a chuckle. "Besides I had to help with the grand finale for the play, and I think I have the impression of an eight year old's knee on my back. Several."

"Oh." She laughed. "Here, let me help you."

"Thanks." He put his weight on her, and she stumbled, and they toppled onto the leaves. He laughed and rolled onto his back. "Oh, that's a knot."

"Oh, that's a knot," she aped him, rolling onto her side. "Grandpa."

"I am. I'm falling apart." He smirked, finding her eyes in the darkness. The moon was shining overhead now, but its rays streamed through the thick tranches and fractured. She seemed to have a white aura, pronounced by the darkness and the branches, and he felt in that moment that his heart had been beating for hers for far longer than he could ever know. He prayed it reached forward into the future as well, because to feel like this...had to be a future. It was too much for the present or past to hold.

"Eli?"

"Yes?" She moved messy hair from her face, the moonlight glowing against her cheekbone, and she blushed when his thumb traced that reflection ever so slightly.

"May I kiss you, Eli?"

"Why are you asking?" She was turning red, and she'd never been more grateful for the dark.

"Why shouldn't I?"

"You're a nerd." She turned her head away, feeling her heart racing beneath her breast, and she heaved a sigh. "Asking for a kiss..."

"Could I have it then?"

"Could you have it?" She chuckled lightly, an airy sound, and she leaned over to kiss him. "You don't have to ask." Her lips brushed his in a feather-soft kiss then pressed down as her hand found his hair in the leaves. There was a faint taste of punch to his lips, and she suspected he'd noticed she was gone right after the play was over. The hint of cracks creeping along his bottom lip that she moistened with her tongue said he'd been out here for a while looking.

He grasped the back of her hair, feeling the braided knot that had slowly come undone through the course of the day against his palm, and he untwisted it, letting them fall against his upper cheekbones. He loved her hair. It was always either a complete mess or a clean with a braid meeting in the back. The strands were smooth and smelled of flowers. He wasn't sure how, but it wasn't like the oils that were put into the soaps, but she always smelled of sweet flowers. He could smell that for the rest of his life.

He used to ask his dad how he knew he loved his mom. He'd unusually be cleaning his bow, and he'd drop a piece or a part and blush, and Grey would laugh. He really wanted to know, but Dad always gave a kiddy answer, so he asked again when he was eighteen. Dad told him the truth. It was a long journal from place to place, encountering new people and bonding more with the original group. He wasn't sure when he'd started to feel for her exactly, but he knew once he recognized his feelings, there weren't going to fade. He wanted her in any way she would give him, and Mom felt the same. He was sure there were more details, a rough patch, but overall that was the story, wasn't it? Love being nurtured through travels and hardships, love blooming at an inopportune moment but thriving despite it all. Love surpassing death. It had to surpass everything, because...how could it not? To see that love still in his dad's eyes, it had to be eternal. And perhaps Greyson found one of his own.

"Keep this up, and the trees will be blushing." Eli brushed a bit of saliva from his bottom lip.

"Trees don't blush."

She chuckled. "Oh, yeah? Just wait til I'm done." She kissed him once more. "C'mere."

She guided him out of the woods and into an open area. Tall brash bent and brushed against them, tickling any exposed skin, and he repressed a laugh. Eli smirked at him and laced her fingers through his, guiding him through the maze the grass had made of itself, and soon she found her way out of it. She scanned for movement then pulled him along, and they jogged over to a form in the darkness. He could make it out as they neared: a cabin.

"C'mere." She slipped through the crack in the door and tugged it further open for him, he followed, and they pushed it back shut. "I found this place when I was out with my dads. It's seen better days, but most of its still intact."

He looked over the worn and semi-rotting walls of the cabin, spotting waste at the table that was so cold no bugs would touch it. It was probably molded to the plate, if he was being honest. He didn't dare touch it. He didn't want to know of those were bones or...beans? He couldn't tell, so he joined Eli in the middle of the room.

"The couch against the door? Doesn't that mean someone's been here?"

"Not for years." She found a lantern and lit up with the matches she kept in her boot. "Ta-duh! Privacy." She held it up and smiled at him.

"Easy on that ankle. You lead me here, and you shouldn't have. You're bound to worsen the sprain."

"It stings, but I'm okay. And you're missing the point."

"Am I now?" Her earlier smile caught on his lips, and he chuckled. "You mentioned privacy, but to do what with, Eli?"

"Eli, Eli, Eli." She clicked her tongue against her teeth and shook a finger. "Must you ask?"

"With you?" He caught her hips when she turned to leave. "Always. It's how I get any answers."

"Come with me." She took hold of his right hand and guided him through one of the three doors in the cabin, pulling him inside where a bedroom lay. The ceiling had given around most of the room, a view of the night sky beaming down on them, and Greyson was impressed that the bed itself hadn't be covered by rubble. It even looked freshly made. Wait a minute.

"Did you...?"

"Maybe." She dragged the word out some and set the lamp down on the night stand and sat down on the chest at the foot of the bed. "You said you didn't want to be interrupted."

"How'd you know I'd find you?"

"I didn't." She rested her hands on her knees. "I crash here from time to time. It's nice—expect for when it rains then it sucks."

"If it's rained on that mattress—"

"There's a curtain under that blanket." She patted it, and it crickled. "It's good for holding in heat and keeping the rain off the bed. It's a little lumpy—the bed—but I don't think we'll notice."

His brows rose as he tilted his head and moistened his lips. "Huh."

"W—Whoa!" Eli was about to ask him what was wrong when the chest sank in from years of weather abuse and her weight, and she fell smack into the center of it.

"You okay?" He was instantly by her side, helping her out of it.

"I've had better days." She minded her foot and the wood to avoid further injury. "My ass is gonna feel that for a couple weeks."

"Want me to kiss it and make it all better?" he mused.

"Why, are you into that kind of thing?"

He scratched his upper lip. "All I know is that I'm into you, Eli. The rest doesn't matter."

"What if I'm terrible? And some hot, young thing comes to town and blows you away?"

"I think if any "thing" comes to town, we'll kill it." He laughed at her expression. "And beauty is in the eye of the beholder. I don't care about looks. I care about you. Only you. I have since I was, like, ten. That isn't going to change."

"And if we don't get a happy ending? What then?" she whispered.

"Then we'll have this." He weaved his fingers through her hair, pulling her closer by the back of her head, and he kissed her with the depth of his love and with not intent other than being completely one with her. Perhaps then he could feel whole for once in his life.

Eli brushed her nose against his when his lips left hers. "Don't let go." It was said with fear and anxiety, and he calmed them with a tender kiss.

"Never."

– – –

Happy Birthday. Today our son is twenty-four. He's a man. An amazing man with compassion and medicinal talent similar to yours. He wears a smile almost every day. He loves to help the kids out down by the school. He teaches them gym and plays with them. He makes them laugh, like an older brother to look up to. He helps to normalize things. He... he helps with Mag and Judy to get them settled in. He adores it. He suits better anything else he'd done. He's great at it. He has a warm heart that everyone trusts, but he has instinct enough to know when to pull his heart back and to keep a person or persons at a distance. He's a good man, a fine warrior, and most importantly, above all else he is alive and happy. Real happy.

He's gotten involved with Eli. The young girl, granddaughter to Neva, who was the only other survivor from the attack. He's been following her since they were young, and while it didn't always work out for the best, they have grown to be respectful of each other. He's in love. He hasn't told me. Maybe not even her, but I know. She's the reason he smiles every morning. I'm a bit jealous 'cause you used to be the reason behind all of my smiles. Now there are few, and they're for Greyson when they do appear. He doesn't know how rare they are, but I suppose when I'm around you and our son, they aren't as few as I think.

Anyway, Eli is a...curious one. She's grown into a beautiful woman, always has her hair either braided or down, and if it's braided, it was done by Greyson. That's one hint to how I know they've been spending their nights together. She happens to show up early the next morning, hair cleanly braided, smiling, and there's always a blush on Greyson's cheeks. Like me, he gets embarrassed about that kind of thing. Barely looks up from his eggs. Eli has no shame. She even makes jokes that further embarrassing him, and while it's a bit awkward sometimes, it reminds me mostly of you and the prison. Our talks. You had no shame, either. Although Eli isn't quite as smooth as you. Girl's jagged around all the edges, and I used to worry Greyson would get cut, but he's just about the only one who can get close these days. She isn't fond of the newcomers, so she stays close to the family, close to her fathers and friends and Grey. I must've rubbed off on her. (You wouldn't agree with that, would you? Not now. After everything.)

Today is very special. Greyson has chosen what he wants to do. No more rotations from job to job; he wants to help the newcomers and the kids. He has gotten Maggie's approval, and the kids are bouncing off the walls with joy to have him. Eli is close to share in that joy. I believe he's off with her now, celebrating today as his birthday and as the day he chose his career. I don't blame him. I'd be with you, too, every second I'd spend with you if we had as much time as them. I wouldn't waste a second of it.

The nights are easier now. After twenty plus goddamn years, they'd better be, right? Well, not entirely. I can sleep through most the night, but the dreams still come. The nightmares. I save you so many nights in my dreams. I hold you and our son, and we're here now together to gently guide him into adulthood. You're by my side, holding my hand, and everything makes sense. It's peaceful. It's the most peace I've ever known.

But some nights aren't so kind. It's a horrible twist my mind plays, imagining how quickly you could have turned, what you could have done to those in the room, to our son, but it wasn't you. It wouldn't have been you. It was a dark and hungry thing under your skin, and it tortures me in my dreams as much as the other version of you I see. Either way you are gone, and I must suffer seeing you in those dreams. Smiling at me or snarling at me, and I want to give in. I want to reach out and let you have me in both ways, but I wake. I wake to tears, or to find Greyson has heard me struggling and came to check on me. He stays with me on those nights until I can sleep, but mostly we talk. He tells me of Eli and of the kids. I tell him of you and of the past. He likes that. It makes him smile to know more about you. I'm running out of stories, and that breaks my heart more than you can know. How can stories of you come to an end as well? They shouldn't. And yet...they have. Haven't they?

It all remains the same here. We have Sections now as we'v expanded. We had letters, but they reminded us of the prison and of Terminus, so we switched them. It was an idea from some book Enid had read. There are ten now, all either filled with buildings for teaching and healing, or animals and crops, or waiting to be decided on. The walls are stronger than ever, and while our supplies for building are low, Judy is confident that we'll be fine. She has a plan with Keela, Maggie and Zeke. I have a good feeling on it. That girl was born for this. Ass Kicker will see this new world out. Just like the rest of the young ones. I'm proud to have known them and to continue to know them. I have no say, but I would and do entrust this world each and every one of them.

Wyatt is fierce. He has the fire of his mother, the talent of calming others like his father, and he has the skill of both protect and lead. He is just like Rosita, but he looks like Spencer more now that he's grown. He stays close to Annie, and while he did have the most obvious crush on her, it's passed. They're good friends, better partners in business, and they really enjoy hanging out with Denise and learning from her. Wyatt wants to guard, but he does like to learn tricks to calm the older folks and the easily startled newcomers. He'll do great.

Annie is...so much more than her appearance. She was small in built, mirroring her mother in combat and her father in negotiations. She spends time with Morgan and mediates with him almost every morning. She spends her afternoons tending to the crops and pulling weeds. She seems so harmless, but corner her or someone she loves, and this...badass comes out. She was no fan of guns or bows, no. She liked spears, like the ones Hilltop crafts. She went with Maggie during one trip to settle an argument among leaders, and she devoted herself to learning how to use it. It sometimes is an over decorated walking stick, but she was lethal with it if she has to be. She was quick and had unwavering aim. She was deathly in dodge ball, too.

As for Sage, he was a little thing, still. He'd like to act like he's a big, grown man but he wasn't by any means. He's a little squirt who favored his dad in most ways. He didn't want to learn how to fight. He wanted to learn how to grow—food, livestock, etc. He wanted to assist with the animals and the fields more than with the wall, but he did learn basics should the worst occur. He kept a machete with him but insisted it was soley for chopping down corn stalks. Only seventeen and so sure of himself. A wisdom Maggie suspected her grandfather had given him. If that were true, he would be vital to the survival of humanity. He could bear that burden. He could endure more than he knew, though hopefully it was nothing too strenuous.

And again with Eli. She was a runner, graduated top of Glenn's class. She dealt with most of goods being carted to and fro, and she made sure everyone got everything they needed. She was protective as all hell of those in her team, and she was good at leading a small group. She had no trouble with killing, or she'd like the world to think. I've seen her break down a few times in our bathroom when Grey's not home. She comes to visit at all hours when she's not on a run, so when he isn't there, the bathroom is safe. She's starting to let me comfort her and to talk about it. She's even started going to her dads for support. Aaron was grateful. He knew she'd been having a hard time, but she wanted to put on a good front. We were all glad she saw the light.

Oh, and Judith Ass Kicker Grimes. She was following Maggie with leading Alexandria as a whole. She was brilliant. She studied with Abe and with Sasha to learn of construction and the necessity of the towers. She's read all the books we could find on building, and she has a natural ability to lead. She's aided the expansion more than most, and she even helped put up the wall to ten. She's working now to expand Hilltop with Keela so that more people can be spent her way, as the Kingdom were filling up quickly, and the built houses here are fill. She's multitasking so many jobs and handling it without so much as a sweat. Maggie is by her side and helping her along with a few other understudies, but honestly I believe she could handle this single-handedly. I'm glad she won't, but it is good to know that Lori makes kids to cope and to build and to restore. She gets to live on in that, too.

You never met Maya, along with the others, but I don't think I've mentioned her at all. I'm sorry. I forgot. I've had a teenager and then a young man to chase after, but now I'm done chasing, so here's Maya. She's the daughter of Abraham and Sasha. She's fifteen. She and Sage are good friends and often go fishing together. (We build another pond, but for fishing purposes. It sometimes doesn't work out when winter comes, but there are plenty of other sources to get fish from.) They perform together—Sage plays guitar and Maya taught herself the violin. She's very skilled, and she applies those skills at the wall. While she's not such a good shot with a rifle, she's an amazing with a .45 and talking people down if they want to kill her rather than join us. She and Grey head that greeting committee (Judy's nickname), and she's calmed many people. The dogs help, too, of course, but we have to ensure they won't endanger them, and Maya has killer instincts on people. She won't hesitate to nudge a pretender who has men coming in to attack us in the night. She's gotten most of them before they could even come up with a lie, but some do slip through. We're capable where she fails, and she knows she can't and shouldn't catch them all. She's only fifteen yet so much talent. She's won't allow her parents to protect her. Not when there are others who need protecting more.

He lowered the pages and studied the grave marker, swallowing hard and feeling his heart racing from the memories and the sting of bittersweet pain they brought along with them. "I wish you were here," he whispered, his lips cracked from the changing weather, his signature goatee grey and growing. His eyes were clouded from tears, the bright blue that was once there a little duller, worn from use and age. He felt like a damned faded picture when he looked at himself in the mirror in the morning. Wrinkles here, colored spots there, white, so much white. He chuckled. They matched now, but she still wore it best.

"I want to hear your voice more than anythin'." He would trade every possession for just one moment of her laughter. He'd trade his soul to hold her, but he had a job to do here. A son to raise. Well, a son had been raised, and now...now it was all too lonely. It couldn't be helped, but he felt like it could be. Maybe.

He folded the letter, leaving most of it unread, tightly wrapped with a rubber band, and he placed it inside the box he had carved for her. It was made from a maple tree that had fallen by the cabin they once stayed out before Greyson was born. He had shaped each side, sanded it, carved on the top and face, and he had glazed it so the weather couldn't destroy it. It had her name on the face written by Greyson when he was five, and it was followed with I love you, Mommy and some X's. Greyson was still so proud of it today and often sat down by her grave to trace the words and to speak to her for hours about things Daryl didn't dare eavesdrop on. He loved her so much and knew she was with him. He wouldn't let anybody change his mind on any of that. It made Daryl pleased to know someone else was fighting to have Carol in their life. That her memories were more than just his to breathe life into.

As for the top, Daryl had gone through many, many tries to trace it, but it wasn't as easy as Greyson's big, sloppy words. His hands were steady and good for hunting and shooting, but not art. No, it was something Maggie had to help him with. When he asked, she simply beamed at him and joined him in the workshop. She traced the curves and spaces perfectly, and Daryl couldn't thank her enough. She hugged him and kissed his cheek, saying all he had to do to repay her was not mess it up! He didn't. He got it etched in perfectly. So on the top of the box that was already branded by her son was a Cherokee rose. It was left uncolored and natural, and it was here that he left letters for the past twenty four years. These letters were filled with Greyson as he aged and their family and the town, as if the words could be absorb from the box into the grave and somehow if possible reach her. Their love, Greyson's life, the thriving of their home—all of it—could reach her and console her. They had made it. Sanctuary. A haven. She'd made it, too, and he wanted her to know that. He truly hoped she knew that.

"Dad."

He looked over, seeing Greyson with Eli, and he felt a fleeting moment of confusion. It appeared that Greyson had been looking for him—Eli, too. He straightened his spine, nearly groaning as it popped, and Greyson smiled and jogged over to him. Eli in hand. "Dad."

"Yeah?"

He knelt down by the grave, pulling Eli carefully down with him, and he laced his fingers through hers. "Let's do it together this year. All of us."

"I already read the letter." Daryl pressed his lips together to keep the guilt from spilling out, but Grey shook his head. "Then what?"

"We have letters of our own." Eli pulled it out of her jacket and held the folded slip of paper between two fingers. "I'd be honored to join you. If you'll let me."

"Of course," Daryl and Greyson said as the same time, both sharing a chuckle at the unison answer.

"You're in this family, girl," Daryl assured her. "Go on."

"Okay." She moistened her lips and glanced at Grey before releasing his hand to unfold the paper. "I don't know you, but I hear you helped raise me for a time. I have dreams of it—of your smiling face—and it does my heart good. They tell me you loved me, too, and I can only imagine how much I'd love you. With how much I feel for the boy you gave me, it must be...a great amount. To hear of others speak of you, you must have known a lot of great love, and I hope you know that the purest comes from right here." She looked from Daryl to Grey. "From your boys, who are boys no matter what age they are."

Grey chuckled and blushed sheepishly.

"And...I want you to know that I will keep his heart beating until my stops." She met Greyson's eyes. "You gave everything for him to have a chance, so I can do no less. Right?"

"Eli." He set a hand on her knee.

"Right." She cleared her throat. "I don't know if you're in Heaven or someplace in between, but I wish you peace. I wish you joy. I wish you everything this world took from you and more. Thank you for allowing this day to be more than an ordinary day; thank you for making it the day Greyson came into the world. Much love to you, Carol Dixon. Dream well."

Daryl smiled and set a hand over hers. "Thank you."

"Annie came up with, like, all of it." The tears he saw there against jade orbs spoke of just how much that was a lie. "Um, do I put it in there? Or is that not okay?" She gestured to the box.

"Go ahead." He nodded. "Fold it tight."

"Okay." She did as instructed and placed it inside with the others. It looked like it was filled with mints, but they were all letters folded to the max. She loved his love for her, his dedication, and she couldn't resist hugging him. She'd never hugged him so quickly or randomly before, but she was too emotional to not. She apologized afterward, but he said it was okay.

Greyson had pulled his own letter out and smooth it out over his thigh, Eli made a jab about it while coolly wiping her eye, and he nudged her rib. "Hey, Mom, it's me, your son. I don't know how to really greet you. I guess it's because I never had the chance. Not officially anyway. I do know you held me. Dad tells me about it, but it never seemed to be enough. I wanted you to hold me and kiss my hair, kiss my bruises, rock me to sleep. I wanted you to stand by me through my first lesson with a gun, to help me through my nerves that first day of aiming practice. To cover my ears when I first fired a gun like Rosita did to Wyatt and Michonne to Judith. I had Maggie there, and while I love her dearly, she wasn't you. I know it's selfish of me, but I wanted you, my mother. I still find myself wanting your presence in my life, and while I sometimes think I do, I mostly feel like I'm crazy."

His voice broke with a dry laugh at his own sanity, Eli frowned and ached at his letter, and Daryl felt tears in his eyes that he couldn't hold back. "But now that I'm older, now that I don't need your hand or your arms to hug me, I do still want them. I long for them on my down days, but I have Eli's hands and Dad's arm. I have my friends and Annie and Sage who are like siblings. I have your blanket to wrap around my shoulders for warmth, and I have your picture to keep you in my mind.

"I grew up, Mom. It was a long road. I didn't raise a lot of hell, but it was its own sort of hell without you. I'm making peace with it now, and I know that you would have stayed and raised me if you could. I know that somewhere...somewhere you are watching over me. Be it in Heaven or somewhere else, I know you're there, as close to us as you can be. I'm not crazy to believe that, and I won't let anyone try to make me feel like that. It's a piece of you Dad and I get to keep until we meet again. And we will. I know I'll get to hug you one day, be kissed on the forehead by you...so thank you for my birth, Mom. Thank you all that you did for me. I... I love you...so much."

The letter shook in his hand as tears rolled down his cheeks, Eli kissed his cheek and rested her chin on his shoulder, stroking his hair, and he closed his eyes to calm himself. He turned and buried his face in her shoulder, and she held him.

"I'm sorry. I thought I'd be okay to read it." His voice was raw, and his lips trembled.

"You don't have to be sorry." Daryl tenderly took the letter from him and folded it. "It was beautiful, son. She would have loved it."

"Thanks, Dad." He smiled. "Some birthday, eh?" He wiped at his eyes. "Jesus."

"C'mon. Let's go back to the house. I caught a deer yesterday and have whipped up some venison strew. It's really good. My dads loved it." She helped Greyson stand up. "We can have it with my dads. I mean, they're off today."

Greyson helped Daryl to his feet out of courtesy, though Daryl didn't need it—yet. "We have dinner at my place," he replied. "You can bring the stew, though."

"Are you sure? It sounds like a dad-son thing."

"We'll come over to yours." Daryl adjusted the strap to his crossbow, finding it loose. "I'll meet you both there. I gotta make a stop."

"Really?" Greyson looked him over. "You sure?"

"I'm sure. Now go and warm up some bread. I want some."

"Dad just made a fresh loaf for the strew." Eli smiled. "It oughta still be warm."

"Sounds damn good." He nodded his head. "I'll catch up. Go on now."

"Thanks, Dad." Greyson caught Eli's hand and went on ahead to Aaron and Eric's house.

Daryl looked once more to the grave and crouched down. "Remember wen you taught me how to make cookies for him? Well, I honed my skill. I made him a cake today. It's a bit bittersweet, but Aaron and Eric can help me decorate it. That was your area. I'm lucky I didn't char the damn thing." He shook his head and inhaled. "Thank you...for giving me this life, Carol. Our life. Even with you gone, it'll still be our life. Our son. We did pretty good. Tobin helped. A little, I guess, with the height and shit, but it was mostly us."

A chuckle to himself. "I...should go, but I'll be back with fresh flowers in the spring." He rose and walked off.

Aaron and Eric had set the table, greeting their daughter and future son-in-law (eventually they knew it was coming) with hugs. Greyson helped carry in the pot of stew while Eli and Eric readied the bread, and Aaron heard a knock on the back door. Eli took the bread to the dining room, and Eric cleaned the bread knife off while Aaron opened the door. It was Daryl and a birthday cake. Eric jumped on the chance to decorate it, and Aaron laughed.

"He's been growing those edible flowers for years, but now he has a use for them." He leaned over the counter. "And we can use the berries for color."

"And for icin'?" Daryl asked.

"Hmm."

"We can use whipped cream," Eric reminded them. "We just have to whip it, add the berries and flowers to it, and voilà—birthday cake."

"So creative." Aaron marveled at his husband.

"I try." He smirked. "Leave this to me. I'll excuse myself just before we're done and throw on the finishing touches. C'mon."

They joined the birthday boy and Eli, who had taken the most the moment alone to share a kiss, and Aaron threw a cloth napkin at them. She jolted and threw it back almost immediately, blushing horribly, and Greyson put such intense focus on smoothing out the napkin in his lap. Eric could only laugh, seeing Daryl so in the young man, and Daryl rolled his eyes, but there was a smile on his lips.

"So, any big plans?" Eric asked nonchalantly.

"Dad," Eli warned.

"What? I wasn't pressing for an engagment. I'm not that type of parent. If I wanted information on that, I'd ask Annie."

"Annie would know before me?" Eli turned a glare to Greyson.

"What?" Grey had been focusing on his strew and bread, which had been amazing, so he had no clue what they were talking about. "Annie?"

"Thanks for listening in." She crossed her legs and sighed. "I guess Annie would know first. She is attached to your hip."

"Annie would know what?" He was confused.

"She might ask for him, too," Aaron mused.

"Ask for what? For whom? What is going on?"

"Don't heckle the birthday boy," Daryl stated. "And pass the bread, er...please."

Eric smiled. "You like it?"

"Yeah, it's real good. The crops are doin' real good." He drank from his glass. "I haven't been out to see 'em, since it's late winter and all." The ground was wet with melting snow, and he didn't want to deal with the cold mud. He had his share for today.

"End of," Aaron corrected, "but yeah. They rations and pickled goods are tiding us over well this year. The increased livestock has helped. We can thank Sage for that."

"I already did." Eli straightened in her chair. "I brought him a bowl of stew and some bread for lunch. Better than pickled beets or whatever he was gonna have. He hugged me." She smiled. "He's such a weird kid, but he's kinda awesome, too."

"Yeah, we can all agree with that." Eric picked up the pitcher of tea and poured himself more. "I think Maggie popped out a plant-being, not a human being. He gets on with them better."

"Nah, he's a great conversationalist." Grey poked at a carrot in his bowl. "You just have to catch him at the right time. He doesn't sleep much in the winter to be sure the crops won't have any issue regrowing. After what happened before, I can't blame him, but there's little we can do if the earth doesn't want to grow anything."

"You don't like the carrots?" Eli noticed his picking while their parents went on to talk about other things.

"No, they're fine." He pocked it through with the fork and ate it.

"Don't eat them if you don't like them." She reached over and began to pull them from his bowl. "You can have my potatoes instead."

"Eli, no, no, it's okay." He stopped her. "It's fine. I'm just... Well, to be honest, Mag and Annie made me huge lunch, so I'm not that hungry. I didn't want to say anything, but I'm pretty stuffed still."

"Oh." She stilled her hand. "That's okay. You don't have to eat it."

"But I want to."

"It's not healthy." She poked his belly. "Don't eat it. Digest the lunch first. You might have room for dessert."

"There's dessert?"

"Probably. I mean, it's your birthday." She poked him again. "Hmm, getting a little thick, Grey."

"I'm not."

"Uh-huh." She helped herself to a piece of a carrot from her bowl and chewed on its soften texture.

Dinner went by smoothly, Aaron and Eric always did like having Greyson and Daryl over, especially now on such an important day. True to his word, Eric did slip away and decorated the cake. Daryl brought it out while Eric poured cups of coffee, and they sang to Greyson. They didn't have candles, so Eli struck a match and had him blow that out instead. Then they attacked the cake.

Daryl looked at Greyson as Eric handed him the first evenly slice piece of cake, and it was worth it to see his face lit up at that. They always talked about cakes for birthdays, but they hadn't grown any wheat until lately. Daryl jumped on the chance, and he used some of Carol's tips to help him with replacement ingredients. He could see that Greyson liked it, and it healed his heart. He was more pleased by that than by eating the cake itself. It was pretty good. A little dry, but the berries were juicy. It was...really good.

Daryl looked up from his coffee when Greyson sat beside him. "Hey."

"Hey." He couldn't hide his smile. "Thanks, Dad."

"For what?"

"You know for what." He rested his hands on the table. "But I'll say, just so you do know."

"Grey—"

"Thank you for raising me, for being my dad. Thank you for teaching me about my mom and my father. Thank you for the survival lessons and for never making me less than anyone. Thank you for everything you've ever done and given up for me. I couldn't have ask for better dad. I'm glad that I got to spend another birthday with you." He gripped his dad's shoulder and inhaled. "I love you."

"You make me cry, I'm punchin' everyone," Daryl mused.

Greyson laughed. "All right, all right, but I mean it. You...taught me everything, and I'm grateful to have you. We don't share blood, but what we have is stronger. Tobin would be proud of the man you've helped me become."

"He'd be proud of you," Daryl murmured. "So would Carol."

"And I know that, because you kept them with me all these years. I'm thankful for that, too."

Daryl set his hand over Grey's on his shoulder. "I'm thankful for you, too, Greyson. You can't imagine how much."

"Hey, hey." Eric set a hand on Daryl's head, ruffling up his hair. "No tears. It's a good day. It's a birthday."

Daryl rolled his eyes at him, a tear slipping free. "It's a good day now that we have coffee." He stood up. "Hands off. I'm no horse."

"You sure? Have you brushed that thing lately? The horse's are softer." He followed him into the kitchen.

Eli pounced and wrapped her arms around Greyson's shoulders, kissing his cheek. "Happy birthday, Greyson Dixon. By the way, we're all super happy you were born."

"Me, too." He set his hand on her arm and stroked it with his thumb.

She pushed hair from his ear. "We can celebrate on our own tonight."

"Eli," Aaron called.

She whipped around, heart skipping a beat and paled. "Yes?" Did he hear that?

"Help me find a game to play. We'll beat Daryl and Eric tonight while Grey keeps score."

"Ooh!" She hurried over to him. "Oh, we have to pick a good one."

"Why can't I play? It's my birthday."

Eli and Aaron looked at him and answered, "Sore loser."

"I am not!"

"You're an extreme sore loser." Eric rejoined them with his coffee topped off. "I can keep score a round, but if you throw a fit, I'm in."

"All right." He rolled his sleeves up. "Can I pick the game?"

"No," Eli and Aaron said.

"Birthday."

"Look, we'll play a game tonight that'll make you forget about this," Eli remarked without thinking.

"That was more than I ever wanted to know." Daryl sat down beside Eric.

"Same." Aaron selected a game and stood up. "I'm going to forget that."

"Same." Eli felt cold embarrassment course through blood, and she looked at Grey like she wanted to crawl under a rock. Fuck balls.

He snickered and dropped down beside her on the floor by the coffee table, kissing her temple, and she wanted to bury her face in a hole. "Don't worry, we'll play a game that'll make you forget about this," he murmured into her ear, and she covered her face with her hands.

"Okay." Aaron slid the game over to Greyson. "Set it up."

"Sure." He began to unpack it innocently, like he hadn't just said something that sent Eli over the a cliff of curiosity and embarrassment. His mother's child.

"All right, Eli and Aaron, Team Raleigh, vs. Daryl and Greyson, Team Dixon." Eric set his coffee down and used the pressure of his hand to keep the notepad still as he wrote.

"You good, babe?" Aaron glanced at him, not wanting him to think he was babying him due to his handicap.

"I am a shitty writer with my left hand is what I am." He smiled. "Guess I could use my right toes."

"Dad, no!" Eli squeaked. "Please, I hate feet. Annie used to climb all over me when we were kids. I can't handle feet. Bleck!"

"Then shitty handwriting for the win," Aaron softly announced, leaning over to hiss Eric's cheek. "Let's play. First pick and roll goes to the birthday boy."

"Whoo." Eli lifted her coffee cup up.

Greyson chuckled and went ahead with his picks, Eric made a note of his piece, and Aaron took Eli's coffee so she wouldn't spill it on the floor. She looked offended, but she did jumpy on caffeine. It made Daryl laugh, and Aaron nudged her. She made a face, and Eric busted out laughing, dropping the notepad, and Greyson glanced up when it fell, already lost in the game. It was going to be a good night. A good birthday. One of many.

– – –

They were pulled from their duties to help Aaron with a run, and no one complained. It had been a boring couple of weeks, and they could use something else to do. All runs had been suspended due to the rain that had plagued them and nearly ruined their crops, but it had let up some. Enough for Aaron to get permission for this run. They were going to look and collect any mobile homes—trailers, RVs—anything that was in good condition. They were going to be pushed against weak points in the wall and built on for stability. They were also to house the new group they had. They had run out of housing, so Rick and Michonne were housing them for now. It wouldn't last much longer, especially with the rain keeping everyone cooped up in the house, so they hoped they could find something good.

Annie and Wyatt were in the middle of the group while Aaron and Maya took point, and Greyson and Eli watched the rear. Eli wasn't entirely focus on the mission, so much as the sticky heat coating her skin. Greyson didn't seem to mind it, but it was grossing her out. She couldn't put her hair in a high enough bun to keep it from rubbing against the back of her neck. Ugh. She couldn't wait for a shower.

"So, how much further?" Eli called out.

"As long as it takes." Aaron returned. "And hush. This is uncharted area. We need to be careful."

"Yes, sir." She put her hands on her hips and looked over the empty houses through the trees. "I bet they paid big bucks for those wood holes."

"Huh?" Greyson looked up from the map of the area he'd found. "Probably."

"I wonder what it was like to own a house like that." She smirked. "We could do anything in our own house."

"Head out of the gutter, Raleigh," Wyatt called back.

She blushed. "I mean, like parties, you creep."

"Sure, ya did." He winked at her.

"Wyatt." Annie scolded him. "Stay focused, all of you. This is serious."

"Yes, Mom." Eli wiped the back of her neck and drew in stale, humid air. It choked her. "Maybe we should go shopping."

"For what?" Greyson pinned out their location.

"For a trailer." She peeked at him. "I mean, we're all grown up, and I love my dads, but I need space to grow. It'd be...kinda nice to wake up with you. We could do breakfast every day, and we can have dinner. We could do that in bed without rules. We can...just hang out without anyone interrupting."

"Yeah...that'd be nice," he murmured, distracted.

She sighed. "Thanks, Grey."

He stopped walking and reached for his knife, drawing it.

"What is it?" Eli stepped in front of him, her knife ready.

"To the left," he whispered. "Can you hear it?"

It wasn't a walker. It didn't sound like one. The movements were too rushed and careful. It wasn't tripping over feet. It was steady. It was a person, but Greyson wasn't sure if was one of theirs, a straggler from another group, or trouble. He hoped it wasn't trouble. Trouble meant threats or worse.

A gun fired, the group spun around to find Eli and Greyson crouched down behind some trees, and they broke off the road to take cover. The person Grey heard came running through. It was a young girl. She wore a ball cap with torn up clothes and a ripped back pack. She looked back to shoot and tripped. Greyson moved out of hiding to help her up out of habit, and Eli groaned before following suit and moving in front of him somewhat.

"Hey, easy."

She pulled her gun on them, and Greyson held his hands out. Eli wasn't so willing, but Greyson set a hand on her hip and tapped it three times—a stupid signal they'd made up for runs—so she lowered her gun and sent him a sharp glare.

"I'll deal with that." She thrust a hand towards the walker and marched off to kill it.

"It's okay." He lowered himself down beside her, looking at her up close she couldn't be more than ten years old. She had cuts along her bronzed skin, her hair matted and flying everywhere. She was so small for her age, body weight likely at a five or six year old. God, he could see her bones. "I'm Greyson. Who are you?"

She looked over at the woman who bashed the geek's head in, moving to stab the other through the eye, and she shook her head, smacking Greyson with the butt of her gun and running off as quickly as she came.

"Hey!" Eli ran after her, but Greyson told her to stop. "She hit you."

"She's just a kid. She's scared." He wiped the blood off his cheek. "Good hit, though."

Eli set a hand on his cheek and studied it. "Won't need stitches." She pulled out a smile. "Shame. You'd be hot with a scar."

"Oh, please."

"What just happened?" Aaron joined them. "Who was that?"

"It's nothing." Eli holstered her gun. "It's dealt with. We have a job, so let's get to it. I'll take the rear with Annie. Greyson...is distracted, so let's keep him in the middle with you. Maya and Wyatt take point."

"I can take point," Aaron argued.

"I know, Dad, but Maya is out best tracker. And Wyatt has the best vision. He can spot movement from yards away. And my boyfriend here needs a talking to." She forced the smile now, fixed it like a glare at him. "I'll be with Annie."

"I don't need a talking to," Greyson assured him. "She's just... Eli."

"Well, Eli has a point. You cannot afford to be distracted during a run. That's how people get killed." He locked his eyes with him. "Okay? So head up, eyes open, ear listening. Got it?"

"Yeah, er, yes, sir. I got it."

"I'm no sir, but good." He patted his cheek. "C'mon."

They continued onward, Eric marked a few trees with houses they should check out before heading back, and they didn't encounter the little girl again. Greyson searched for her, Eli and Annie both knew he was, so they helped out, and Aaron often found himself repeating every sentence since three of them were dreaming apparently.

"We'll make camp here." Aaron guided them into a house. "I'll clear it."

"On it." Wyatt went inside without asking for permission.

"Or we'll clear it." Aaron went after him and cleared the lower level. "It's good."

Greyson sat down in the corner, bag by his side, doodling a sketch of the girl. Eli fanned herself with a paper fan she found on the wall, dropping on the dusting couch and coughing. Annie laughed at the sight, eating her snack of cubed apples, and Wyatt joined Eli, embracing the dust. Maya rolled her eyes and kept an eye out the window while Aaron started a fire in the fireplace to cook something.

"Okay, new seat." Eli struggled to stand up and spotted Greyson. "Locked on."

Greyson felt her body before he saw her, and he jolted when she ended up in his lap. He lowered the notepad to her lap. "I'm a chair now?"

"Yep." She smiled. "You okay? You seem distracted."

"Yeah, it's that girl. I... She was so young, Eli. I have to get her out of here."

"You don't know who comes with her. She could be in with a larger group."

"Who starve and let her rot in her own body?" He squinted his eyes, lips pressed together. "No."

"You don't know what they use her for. It could just be part of a role she's used to playing."

"I don't buy that."

"Greyson, little girls have never been just "little girls". They are objects to some men. They use them for terrible things. That girl could be bait. They could starve her and beat her and throw her out into the woods to find people. To lure them in so they bring her back to their homes then her men move in and destroy. Do you want that to happen? Because it could."

"I know you don't trust anybody, but I do. I see a little girl and see only a lost child who needs help and food and medicine."

"Fine." She stood up. "Whatever."

"Eli."

"Don't." She walked away. "Just don't."

"What'd you do?" Wyatt hung off the couch. "And also can I have your apple? Answer the second one first. I'm starving."

"I'm working on the fire," Aaron called out.

"Apple," Wyatt held his hand out. "Please, sir, I need some more."

Greyson chuckled and tossed his apple at him. "Don't ever say that again."

"Yes!" He bit into it. "I won't. Gracias, amigo."

He nodded and gripped the notepad, eyes landing on Eli who sat now with Maya by the front door. He knew she had bad experiences with some groups when she was out on runs, but they couldn't all be like that. That was just a child. He would prove it to her. It was just a kid who needed their help. He had to help her. They had to.

"Let there be dinner." Wyatt hopped up. "I'll go grab something up."

"I'll come, too." Annie picked up her knife. "We need more sticks for the fire."

Their dinner was gamy and a bit dry, but it went down like anything else, if not taking more effort. The girls went to sleep in the bedrooms, Wyatt passed out on the couch, and Aaron took first watch. Greyson sat by the fire, unable to sleep, and he looked over the poor sketching of the child. He didn't know how to find her, but he knew that he had to. He could track her, but he'd have to splinter off from the group. Dad would kill him. Eli would kill him, but his gut told him to do this. He had to.

He wrote out a note to Aaron and placed it on the bed where he was to sleep, promising to meet up at the trailer park in two days if he couldn't find her, and he climbed out the window. He scurried away and back down from where they had been.

"Greyson Toby Dixon."

He stopped in the middle of the road and turned with a hand raised to block the light coming at him from the flashlight. "Bright much?"

"Idiot much?" Eli smacked his shoulder. "What the hell, dude? I came to apologize and possibly cuddle, and you're out there looking for a lure?"

"She's not a lure. We're not fish."

"Okay, then bait."

"Eli."

"Don't Eli me. You know as well as I do that the chance of her being a lure are just as high as her being a normal kid."

"Okay, fine, they are, but I have to try. I have to bring her safety if I can." He met her eyes. "You know me. This is what I do. I can't ignore her. She needs somebody, and I've decided that's me. That's us."

"Yeah, girls don't want a man to decided that they're the "somebody" they need. It's gross." She hit him in the face with the light. "But...I can score some loot and watch your ass, so I'm here."

"You'll come with me?"

"Well, you've been doing a lot of squats, so it'd be a shame if no one watched it." She walked by him. "Besides it's much cooler in the night."

"You're going to tell my dad?"

"Fuck yeah."

"I'm twenty-eight."

"So? You need to be lectured."

"People break off all the time in runs."

"Yeah, but for a lead on supplies, not child bait."

"Well, regardless, I'm glad you're here." He fell into step beside her. "Even if you want to watch my ass."

"Through here." She smirked at him, lowering her eyes when he walked in front of her. "Hmm, could be a little higher."

"Hey."

She laughed and kissed him. "Focus." She patted his chest. "Seriously, if we're going to find her."

"You first."

"I am." She pulled her gun from her holster and continued backtracking.

––

They spent the later part of the night finding her trail, and as the sun began to rise they saw signs of where she had been. Eli frowned at her lizard on a stick remains, and Greyson sighed and hoped they found her soon. Eli was disinterested in finding the girl, but she would stand by him. She looked for any clues that the kid may have deviated from the path, but there none. There was nothing after a point, and Greyson suspected she was covering her trail. Eli didn't like that.

"Smart kid." He looked over the area. "I can't tell."

"Me either." Eli pushed off a nearby tree. "We need sleep. We're running on fumes, and if we don't sleep, we'll get sloppy. I don't want anybody to get hurt, because of that, so rest. There's some houses up ahead."

"Lead the way."

"My ass is top shelf, so sure." She couldn't help but laugh at herself, and he kissed her. "Mmm. I seriously cannot wait to get home and just...be in bed all day with you."

"All day, huh? Like we don't have jobs."

She pouted and bit his chin, he jerked back in surprise, and she was about to speak when movement caught her attention. "Fuck." She couldn't count how many were coming from the distance. "Run."

Greyson didn't have time to look back before she was hauling him off towards the houses for shelter. They moved at the same hastened pace, drawing attention from some walkers on the road, but Eli didn't care. They were already weak and on the ground, becoming one with moss and the dirt. She pushed Greyson on, and she spotted a house to seek refuge in.

She ran into the house for shelter, Greyson pulled the door shut behind them, a walker in the porch heard the noise and went to see what caused it. Immediately it began to throw itself at the door, drawing attention with the noise, and to be frank, the glass window on the door didn't fucking help.

Eli grabbed Greyson's sleeve and led him to the downstairs bedroom, the one at the end of the hall, and they threw the door shut, leaning against it as they listened to the walker unyielding pound away at the door. Eli looked around the vacated room to find only a washer and some discarded blanket scraps.

"Help me." She pulled it down onto its face, and Greyson helped her move it to block the door. "Hear that?"

The stained glass design on the door busted and the ravenous groans filled the house as more and more walkers were attracted to what secrets lay just inside. Eli covered her mouth with her hands and giggled, Greyson eyed her, and she stumbled back against the wall, her head hitting it. She rolled from side to the side then set a hand on the wall and stopped giggling by covering her mouth once more.

"You think this is funny? Seriously?" He thrust a hand to the door. "It's not funny. It's serious. It's dangerous, Eli." He hissed at her in a low tone.

"I know it is." She straightened up. "I know, okay? But come on, it's funny. Like they're trying to break in by slamming against the doors. We used to do that when we were kids! We would crowd around your house door and beg for Daryl to let us to have some cookies. It reminded me of that. I'm not totally reckless."

"I think you are."

"Oh, boo." She put her hands on her hips. "I'm as ready as anybody to take them on should they get this far."

"We won't let them. We'll go out through the window and meet up at the point." There was little point in trying to find the girl. She was gone—long gone—and staying out here exposed would only get them killed. He couldn't live with that. He'd let the girl go so they'd be safe. It wasn't a fair trade, but it'd be made.

"It's glass, Grey. We can't go through without busting it and getting their attention." She made a sweeping gesture to the windows. "We'll have to bust through the screens if the windows do open anyhow."

"Well, we can't just stay in here."

"It's cozy." She removed her backpack and stretched her arms. "Mmm, reminds me a bit of my room. Save for the lack of everything, you know."

"Get your pack. We need to get out of here."

"Relax, Greyson." She closed the space between them, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "Relax, okay? We'll be fine. We've been warriors since birth. We kicked life's ass to be here. We'll be fine. Trust me."

"I do trust you, but you tend to be on the crazier side of life."

"Because I know how fleeting it can be." She pushed his backpack straps down his shoulders and cupped his cheeks. "You need to be more in touch with the moment, okay? Who knows what tomorrow will bring, but right now? We have each other, and it's amazing. Being here with you...is amazing, Grey." She leaned up and kissed him lightly, pulling back to scan his eyes. "Isn't it?"

"I agree with you, and I care about you, too, but now isn't—"

"Now is exactly the time." She locked her eyes in his. "Now is always the time to act, and I want you right here, despite the danger, despite the dust that makes your eyes all watery. I want to be distracted from it. Distract me, Greyson." She kissed him again, harder, and he tried to fight it, to not comply, but her soft tongue traced his bottom lip, and his mouth opened to hers. She pushed up on the tips of her toes and plunged her tongue into his mouth, weaving her hands through his soft, curly hairs.

She slid a hand down his side and moved it around her waist, pushing him back against the wall, and he stumbled some, gripping her for support. She smiled against his lips and broke their kiss to meet his eyes. Her light eyes swarmed with desire, and he felt like he was being crushed by the weight of it yet falling deep at the same time.

Eli gasped suddenly when Greyson caught her cheeks in his hand and smacked her against the back wall with his body weight, his hands moving to her hips to gather up the hem of her shirt. She moaned and gasped when his leg parted her thighs and rubbed against her in just the right way. She helped him with her shirt, reaching down to his belt to remove it, and he caught her mouth when she tried to pull away, causing her lungs to burn even more. She whimpered and felt a flush across her cheeks, and he pulled away, allowing her to gasp in air.

"You have shit time to get horny, you know that." He yanked her belt out of its loops, jolting her forward, and she grinned darkly at him.

"Life or death situations get me hot, what can I say?" She laughed and hmmed, biting down on her lip. "Don't you feel it too?"

"I feel your hand," he commented, leaning down towards her. "And my feelings for you, but this isn't ideal."

She lowered her eyes. "Am I wrong...to want this now?"

"No." He rested his forehead on hers. "You're not wrong. You could never be wrong, not when you make me and everything...feel so damn right."

"Cheesy asshole." She chuckled and met his eyes with a light glistening of tears. "You mean it?"

"I love you, Eli." He searched her eyes. "Since I was ten years old, I've loved you."

"Greyson..."

"And one day when you're ready, I—"

She cut him off by kissing him, her hands working his jeans to avoid that subject. She was nowhere near being reach to broach that subject with anyone. She was too young to think about settling down. The world to shit or not. They were adults and could be free and righteous and good, not tied down by love before they can truly know what it means. She knew he was genuine, and it terrified her. She wasn't ready to be deeply and truly loved by a man. She wasn't ready for babies and rings and vows. She wanted childhood promises and tender touches and passion. The rest could come later, but for now she wanted to savor this moment with him and every moment they may have together. If they were still so close and felt so right and so good then yes. Yes, of course, she would be with him in that way, but for now she couldn't. Or...she wouldn't. Not yet. Not anytime soon.

––

The pounding had stopped, something else had gotten the walker's attention, and Greyson and Eli had long since forgotten about then. They were sprawled out on the floor of the laundry room, Greyson placing kisses along her shoulder, and she inhaled, rousing from sleep.

"Hey." She sent him a sloppy grin. "Morning."

"It's probably evening, but who cares?" He kissed her, stroking her cheek. "We need to go."

"But we made it so cozy." She sleepily chuckled, biting her bottom lip. "Mmm."

"C'mon. Aaron's waiting."

"Don't mention my dad right. I am basking, okay? No dad talk. Just kiss me again. Please."

He chuckled and obliged, kissing her deeply, and she wrapped an arm around his neck, parting his lips and groaning. He pulled back. "I don't have toothpaste."

"Yeah, gross." She sat up. "Crud."

"Get dressed."

"Why do I feel like if I look at you, you're dressed?"

"Because I am."

"Damn. I missed the second best part." She stretched her arms, popping her spine and moaning at how it felt. "Okay. I'm up." She dressed and combed her fingers through her hair, pulling it back.

"They can't be so far away. We can meet them at the entrance of the park."

"Sounds like a plan." She drank from her water bottle and kicked in the window.

"We could use the front door."

"Yeah, but I already did it. I have to commit." She knocked out the sharp shards and slipped through, stretching once more once she was out and withdrawing her knife. "Bend your knees, or you'll land on that sweet ass."

He landed on it anyway.

"Smooth moves."

"I'm taller than you, and I'm not as...nimble."

"Ooh, there's a word." She winked. "Don't make me take you back up there."

"Eli."

"I was kidding. We have to meet Dad, but when we get home, you can poun—"

"Eli." He turned her around to see what he was seeing.

The little girl was climbing out of the window of the house a few doors down on the opposite side of the road, looking worse than before. Eli yanked him down to the ground, he grunted at the contact, and she crawled closer to the bushes to keep an eye on the girl. Greyson followed. They watched her looked around for walkers and people then head down the road. Eli and Greyson pursued her, closing the space enough to read the stickers on her backpack. Apparently she wanted to vote for Obama. Eli wasn't sure if was a sport's team or a food...thing. Hell, people had shit called Ovaltine back in the day that wasn't a some type of shape. Weird.

"I should approach her," Grey whispered.

"No. She'll just run."

"We can't know that, and we can't follow her forever."

"Yes, we can. We can follow her back to her masters and know I'm right, and that this is stupid risky."

"It's not stupid risky. It's worth it risky."

"No, what we did the laundry room was worth it risky. This is so stupid risky."

"Just trust me, Eli." His eyes sliced into hers. "Okay? I have a good feeling about this."

"Your cheek remembers what happened last time, but fine. Go and greet her. I have your back."

"Thank you." He kissed her lightly to take the edge off her anger, but he had a feeling it didn't work. He stepped out from the car he'd been hiding behind and caught to the girl, hands out with no weapons visible. He made sure to loud-en his steps, and she jumped, pulling out her gun. "Easy, easy."

"You again." Her voice was young, definitely that of a ten-year-old, and she was glaring. "Why?"

"I just want to help you."

"And why do you think I need help?"

"Don't you?"

"I don't want your help." Her eyes cut over to the car where Eli was hiding. "Or yours!"

Eli popped up. "You sure? We have good benefits."

"Benefits?" she spat. "The cost will be higher."

"There's no cost, other than pulling your weight. It's chores mostly, going to school."

"I don't want your help. I won't be used. Don't follow me."

"Why not? Why don't you want help? I don't... We wouldn't hurt you. We'd help you. We... You could have a family there, a life."

"I had a family, and they were taken from me by people who wanted to "help us". I don't want anyone's help. I'm better off alone."

"Dude, no one's better off alone." Eli joined them, her gun holstered. "We really do want to help and not hurt you. We have a doctor who can look over your injuries, and we have a school. You can learn to read and write. You can have a better life there."

"Better defined by someone who's been condition to accept the terms of this "home"." The girl shook her head. "Leave. If I see either of you following me, I'll shoot first."

"Wait—" Eli stepped forward, but the girl cocked the hammer, and Greyson grasped her waist. "Little bitch."

"Eli." He hissed at her ear, "Don't."

"She shoots you, babe, and I jump her." She was growling. "Walk on then, but don't say nobody tried to help you."

She flipped her off and took off like a shot.

"Ugh, I don't like her." She huffed. "Let's get my dad."

"Yeah." He glanced back at the girl who was becoming smaller and smaller as she ran in the other direction, and he turned around as Eli walked forward. He inhaled and apologized for what the world had done to the girl before falling into step with Eli.

––

They caught up to their group at the meeting point, Aaron pulled her aside instantly to inspect her, and she blew off his remarks, but he held her tightly. Her heart ached at the worry there, and she assured him she was great. She felt a little hurt he didn't trust her to take care of herself. He could see that too, so he stroked her cheek and smiled softly, confidently.

"I know you're strong, but as your father, I worry."

"I'm fine, Dad. Promise. The only thing I had to worry about was the pull out." She laughed and glanced over at Grey who apologized to Judith and Annie for making them worry. She caught a look of confusion in her dad's eyes. "My machete. Pulling out my machete. It's in a tight sheath, and it's super new, so..." Yeah, that didn't sound better.

He sighed and shook his head. "You and Grey, huh?"

"I started it," she replied. "I always start it. I wouldn't get any if—I mean, yeah." She crossed her arms and felt her cheeks burning.

"I know you're an adult, and I trust your partner, but please, don't do this now. Not even Maggie and Glenn did it on runs."

"Not from what Enid tells me." She smirked. "And we were totally careful. We were inside a house, and—"

"I don't want details."

"I wasn't giving any. Just trust that he didn't throw me against a tree. We're safe, Dad. I have too much I care for to be stupid about that. You and Dad and Grandma are the world to me, and I wouldn't worry you like that. I'll stay close from now on. Promise."

"All right." He glanced at Greyson. "You really like that boy?"

"He's easy on the eyes." If not on her body, which she totally approved of. "And he has those blue eyes I could stare into for days."

"You and Daryl both." He smiled faintly.

"What?" Her brows furrowed.

"He has his mother's eyes, and Daryl...could have spend an eternity looking into her eyes, but life isn't that fair."

"Oh, right, Carol." She looked over at Grey. "Huh, guess we both have that in common. We both lost our moms soon after birth. I guess that's why I feel so...pulled to him. We have a common bond. Plus kick ass dads."

He chuckled. "Thanks, kid."

She smiled. "Anytime."

"Let's get a move on." Maya took point and headed forward. "Mags will be upset if we don't keep schedule."

"Yes, Abe Jr." Eli saluted her and fell into step with his dad, glancing back as Annie climbed onto Greyson's back. She rolled her eyes and turned forward. "Can't she walk now?"

"Jealous?" Aaron smirked.

"No, they grew up as siblings. It's weird. She's so clingy to him for someone she views as a bro."

"She twisted her ankle helping me avoid being bitten," Aaron informed her. "She saved my life."

"Oh." She looked back once more time. "Go Annie."

"And they are like siblings, which is why Grey takes such good care of her. He loves her, and just like his mother, he takes care of the people he loves, no matter the expense."

"I guess he does." Even that little girl. He didn't even know her, and yet he wanted to save her. Sadly, not everybody wants to be saved. Guess he learned that the hard way. It's a hard pill to swallow, but Greyson was getting his first taste. She hoped it didn't stick to his throat too badly...

––

Greyson brushed down his horse, assuring her sweetly that she was a good girl, and it was okay. She didn't like the brush he used, but it was all he had. He would find some way to make it more enjoyable. Maybe consult Eugene. He was always hatching up some new plan, some wacky invention. He could put their heads together to some up with something great for Oso.

"All done." He smiled at her, rubbing her snout. "Want an apple? Or a carrot?"

She seemed to nod her head with a neigh.

"Okay." He laughed at her eagerness and handed a ripe red apple over. "I know they're your favorite."

She devoured it, happily chomping.

He wiped his hands on his jeans and set the brush down on its shelf, turning to find Eli watching him, leaning against the beam, wearing a shirt knotted above her belly buton and shorts that were far too short. "It's not that hot."

"No, but it's going to be." She pushed off the beam and kissed him when she neared, leading him blindly backwards towards a familiar pile of hay covered with a blanket. She tipped them over so they fell, and she straddled his lap. "I missed you at church today."

"Really? At church?" He pushed up on his elbows.

"Town meeting," she corrected. "Still missed you. What kept you?"

"I had some stuff."

She frowned and brushed his bangs aside. "It wasn't about that kid again? I thought you had come to terms with that."

"I did. I have. It...wasn't about her. It was work. Wyatt and I helped Section Six's newcomers. Those girls and their aunt? We helped them move in."

She nodded. "You helped them?"

"They had some luggage and some canned goods. We had to take them over to Spence and Olivia, and we had to move a bed in." He didn't like the look in her eyes. "You can't seriously be jealous. We just helped. Wyatt has a thing for the blonde, but you know—"

"She's younger than us, all cute and rosy cheeks. I bet—"

"You're ridiculous." He caught her hips and locked eyes with her. "You are the only woman I have eyes for, okay? Only you. Don't be so insecure."

"How can I not be?" She averted her eyes when tears flashed here. "I'm possessive and the worst kind of spontaneous. I—I can't commit. I have a poor personality, and I try to improve it, but I don't think it gets any better."

"You're nuts. You're...amazing. You help the kids all the time, and you and my dad are like best friends. He adores you. And so do those kids. There are plenty of guys who want to be with you. You're impressive and beautiful, and insecure, but it can be adorable."

"Won't you get tired of me?" she whispered.

"No, I love the spontaneity of your actions, and I like how dedicated you are. You really care about guard rotations and making sure shifts are covered. God, I can only imagine your determination on runs. And...so what if you're not sure of yourself? I am sure of you. I'm always gonna be sure of you until you're sure of yourself, too. That's what I mean what I say I love you. I love all of you, Ellie. Every flaw, every freckle, every poor personality trait—all of it. It's you, and God, I adore you."

She smiled and hugged him tightly. "Ditto."

He rubbed her back. "We have a BBQ in an hour to celebrate the water system Judith and Eugene put in place. I told Dad I'd help set up."

"It's only a few minutes away," she reasoned. "We still have time."

"I swear you only want me for sex." He chuckled, but there was a sense of dread there.

"Sometimes," she admitted, and his heart dropped, "but mostly it...makes me feel closer to you than anything else. You fit me so well, and to be with you like that feels...a bit addicting. I mean, I can bring you to your knees with just a few touches, and it's so empowering. Not to mention what you do to me." She chuckled. "I feel like I belong in this messed up world when we're together like that."

"But only like that?" He frowned now.

"Well, it's more potent."

"Eli..." He averted his eyes. "You could feel that way about anybody else if you'd just slept with them."

"I don't know that."

"Yeah, but I do." He moved her off his lap and stood up. "It's not me you're feeling—it's the high of an orgasm."

"What? That's not true." She looked at him, but he didn't look at her. "Greyson."

"I have to help my dad." He patted Oso on his way and walked out.

"Greyson." She tried to catch him by the door. "Greyson! You can't be serious." She ran after him and caught up to him, the knot in her blouse coming undone and covering her torso, nearly covering her shorts, too. "Wait a minute."

"No."

"Why not?" She moved into his path and glared. "You don't get to dump me and then walk away. What did I say? I thought you'd be happy to hear that. Isn't it part of that romantic shit you like?"

"No, it's not romantic to hear the only time you feel close to me is when we're having sex, Eli. It's like a kick to the head, because I love you. I actually, really fucking love you, and you don't love me. You think you do, but you don't, and I can't handle that. I thought you'd come around, but clearly not. I need time to think, so please just give me space."

"Greyson, that's not true. I do care about you. How could I not?"

"But do you love me? Could you love me?" He searched her eyes, and the swarming panic answered his question. "I gotta go, Eli."

She wrapped her arms around herself and stumbled backwards as his figure got further and further away from her, and she covered her mouth with her hands as her eyes burned. She stood there, alone, once he was out of sight, and she turned back on her feet, her boot scraping the gravel. She returned to Oso and wrapped her arms around her neck, sobbing. She didn't know how to react to this, but Eli swore she placed her head on her shoulder as a gesture of comfort.

––

Five weeks had passed since the BBQ, Greyson helped the newcomers settled into their routine, helping the little kids get from class to work and have fun. He played with them on the basketball court and taught them a few tricks. He loved the School Section for this purpose. It was filled with two school buildings for the different age group and learning gaps, a court for basketball and assemblies. He was happy the day he got assigned here. He didn't teach, but he did drift from class to class to be sure they settled in nicely, and when there were no new groups, he helped out with the construction team and with watch on the wall. He was one hell of a shot with his dad and Sasha's help. He was one of the best. He probably got that from his mom.

He caught the basketball as Liza threw it back at him, catching him off guard. It nearly smacked him in the face. "Dude."

"Oops." She grinned at him. "Your class has moved on, Teach."

"I...was thinking." He shook his head and did a double take on her. "Wait, don't you have kitchen duty?"

"Nah, I'm off today." She swooped in and grabbed the ball, bouncing it and tossing it into the hoop. "Play me?"

"I have a couple rounds to make."

"Oh, come on, the world won't fall apart if you don't nod at some people." She reclaimed the ball and tossed it once more at him. "One game. Winner takes all."

"What "all"?"

"Win and find out."

"I can't. I really do have rounds." He set the ball back inside the netted bag with the other sports balls and set it inside the shed. "Sorry."

"It's all right. I'll walk with you. It's this or watch the kids, and I think they don't like me." She rubbed her neck. "Doesn't help that I'm terrible with kids."

"You're not terrible."

"But I'm not you." She fell into step beside him. "You have a gentliness with the kids that I only see with moms. You're very compassionate."

"They're our future, and they deserve to be children and to be loved and care for." He adjusted his shirt so that it was tucked behind his knife. He didn't want the kids to see it and fear something bad was going to happen. That was for another day. Today was just fun, just play, and soon they would be shown how to wear and use these weapons. He would be the one to teach them, and he would teach them well. They would be able to protect themselves and their families.

"Bet your mom raised you like that."

He swallowed hard. "My mom died when I was born, so it's just me and my dad."

"Oh. I'm so sorry." She set a hand on his arm. "I didn't know."

"It's okay. Not many people know." He shrugged, causing her hand to fall off. "I know she loved me, and I love her, so it's...bearable. It's not okay, but bearable. That's what Dad says now. He used to say we'll be okay one day, but how would we? To not have her here? It's only just bearable now. I miss her, and it's so wacky to miss someone you never really knew. I mean...my chest aches when I think of her, like...the world's gonna fall out from under me, and I can't breathe. I'm suffocating."

"It must be hard."

"It's not, though. It's...nice to now that I was loved so much that that love stays with me today and reminds me of that physical loss." He smiled somberly. "I know my mom's still with me...somewhere in some plane or anything, and I'm glad."

"That's cute."

His brow twitched. "So...what's your story?"

"Not like yours and the people here. I was born in the woods, my mom did her best to take care of me, but she died when I was about eight. I had to learn how to take care of myself. I met some people along the way that I watched for weeks before actually introducing myself, and we took care of each other." She tucked her hands in her pockets. "And the found Alexandria about...oh, seven months ago?"

"We haven't really hung out," Greyson pointed out. "I think this is the third time I've even talked to you."

"Your ex made it impossible to get close."

"Eli's not so bad. She's...pretty great once you get to know her."

"I bet a lot of guys have gotten to know her." She chuckled sourily and rolled her eyes.

He stopped walking. "Excuse me? What did you just say?"

"I've heard the rumors about her. She only used you." She met his eyes and halted in walking. "She's been over at Wyatt's every night since you dumped her. One guess what they're doing."

"They're friends. We've been friends since we were seven."

"You're so sweet, Grey. You know that?" She smiled at him. "You're really one of the goods guys. I didn't think there were any of you left, but you're going to get hurt with her, you know that, right? She's bad news. She'll only let you down."

"It's not any of your business who hurts me."

"It could be."

He shook his head. "No, it won't and isn't."

She stepped closer. "Don't be like that. You never know what you like until you try. You just need someone better than Eli."

"And you're "better"?"

"I know what I feel for you, and it's not only physical attraction." She smirked seductively at him. "Just give us a shot."

"No."

She caught his wrist and invaded his personal space, and he gulped, obviously uncomfortable with her being so close. "Please?"

"Look, I already—"

"Back that blonde ponytail up," Eli growled, standing behind Greyson with Wyatt and Annie on either side of her.

"Eli." She stepped back. "What are you doing here? I—I thought you were on a three week run."

"We got back early." She crossed her arms. "And I'm right here now, because I came to talk to Greyson."

"You did?" He turned to face her, feeling Liza's hand slip into his, and he gulped even harder when Eli noticed. "Okay, Eli, it's not—"

"I'm sorry," she blurted when Annie pushed her forward gently. "I know I'm not like you. I'm not the emotional type of lover. I've talked it over with Wyatt and Annie both, but... I'm not going to be that kind of love with you. I don't mix well with words, and I'm not logical and focused like you, not unless it's in a fight, and love isn't a fight. Not the kind of fight I can win with a gun or knife, anyway.

"That's not the point." She shook her head and met his eyes, concentrating on the subject. "I love with my body, okay? It...understand these things better than I can. I'm not keen on relationships and stuff. I've tried for you, because you have the great love of your parents, but not me, okay? I don't know what my parents were really like. I'm not the product of true love or fairy tale crap like you and Annie and Sage. I'm just a person with two supportive, awesome dads who really care about me, and I'm shit with words. I thought you understood what I was saying with my body, but... I was wrong, and I still don't know how to say those words, but I want to try. If you're going to be with...her then I want to try and let you know so you know there's choices. I'm a choice, if you want me to be, because I do feel all the same things you do. How could I not? You're, like, the best part of me. You make me make sense, and in this entire weird ass world, we found each other and make sense of what that means. I don't want that to be brief; I want...all the time sense and logical and love with words and bodies and whatever that means."

"Eli..."

"But if you want...whatever her name is then okay. That's whatever it is, and that whatever is not my business, so...you do you, I guess."

Liza let go of his hand at the moment he pulled hard to free it and wrapped Eli up in his arms, she jolted in shock, and he held her tightly, kissing her shoulder.

"For someone who can't speak love, you said it an awful lot."

She didn't comment, just wrapped her arms around him. "Blame Annie. She made me be honest." He smiled at Annie, who grinned back and nudged Wyatt in the rib to give them a moment. "This doesn't mean we're married or anything, just...us." She buried her face in his shoulder.

"That's fine by me. I love being an us with you."

"Does this mean I can use your mom's blanket when I get cold?"

"No."

She grinned and hugged him tighter, closing her eyes and thanking whoever for her friends and their presistence. She would have regretted this for the rest of her life without them. She was grateful to not have to. And maybe that blanket could one day be used for their kids. Maybe.

– – –

Eli curled closer to Greyson on the bed when she woke to the sun smacking her in the face. She groaned a complaint and pulled his shirt up, slipping underneath to block it out. That woke up him, and he was startled by the massive lump until he felt her face on his torso.

"What are you doing?" he laughingly inquired.

"That light is rude. Tired."

"Just close the curtains." He rolled over to stand up, but she protested. "What? You want it dark."

"Yes, but I want you more. Stay and keep me warm."

"You're ridiculous."

She kissed his hard belly. "Deal with it."

He shook his head and saw his dad in the doorway. "Dad, good morning."

Eli shot out from under his shirt. "I was just looking for warmth. I swear." She moved hair out of her face. "All we did was cuddle. He's the little spoon. Ironic, right?"

"Eli." He stared at her, begging her silently to shut up.

"I'm sorry." She cleared her throat. "I'm, like, thirty, and still get jumped when Dads appear."

"Yeah, you're both too old to pretend you're teenagers." Daryl smiled softly. "I have some news for you two. Let's have breakfast."

"I am starving. We got in so late last night." Eli shot out of bed and pulled her knit cardigan from the end of the bed on, following Daryl downstairs to food.

Greyson joined then ten minutes later after a bathroom break and found a plate already made. "Thanks. It looks good."

"It is." Eli was on her second helping. "So, what's the news? You look...stern. Did something happen while we were gone?"

"Yeah, somethin' happened." Daryl leaned against the opposite counter. "It's pretty serious, too."

"Dad." Greyson dropped his fork. "A—are you okay? Is it Maggie? God, is it Glenn?"

"No, it has nothing to do with anybody but me." He smiled thinly. "I made a decision."

"What kind of decision?" Eli glanced at Greyson before meeting Daryl's eyes.

"I'm moving out."

"What?" Eli gasped. "Is this because of me? I know I'm over here a lot, but I can stop. We can meet out...there. I know it's a lot to have three people in this house when you only get food for two, but I can help out. If you want me to. You don't have to move out."

"Dad, you can't move out. This is your home. You and Mom lived here. It's everything to you." Greyson pleaded. "You just can't leave it."

"I can leave it. It's just a place, Greyson. I'll be fine without it." He drank from his cup. "Besides this gives you and Eli a home."

"A home?" He shook his head. "Dad, we... This is a home with the three of us."

"Nah, it ain't. It's me and my son and his girlfriend. It's awkward for all of us. It's all right that I'm leaving. I'll be Rick and Michonne, Judith moved out to live with Annie, and they're looking forward to having me. It'll be like old times."

"But, Dad, you can't just... do this." Greyson stood up. "We can work this out."

"It's been worked out. You two take the house, make your own memories in it, and I'll be with Rick and Michonne and Eugene." He was less thrilled on that, but at least Eugene could humor him. Maybe. "You'll be thankful for it."

"If you're sure about this," Eli started.

"I've already moved my things," he started. "While you were gone, I moved out. I just wanted to stop by and greet you, tell you of this decision."

"You—you just packed up and left? Without consulting me?" Greyson scoffed. "I don't give a damn how old I am—this is our house, and I should've had a say in who stays or goes."

"Greyson, I'm old. Actually, this time, and this home is lonely. It's not you two; it's memories. I don't want them following me around, so I'm going to live with Rick and Michonne. There are no memories there for me, so I can make new ones. Y'all can do the same here. Have your kids here. Get married here. Life here. It's what I want, really. I lived my life, now it's your turn."

Greyson closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Grey." Eli rose and rubbed his arm. "He has a point."

"I know." He dropped his hand opened his eyes. "I'm not happy about your method, but I understand."

"Good. Now eat your pancakes."

Greyson smiled. "You...eat the pancakes."

"I did. They're good."

Eli smiled and kissed Greyson's shoulder. "Look on the bright side, we have a home. We can get a dog now." She raised her eyebrows. "Huh? Keela has a new breed."

"I...don't want a dog."

"I'll take a dog. Sign me up." Daryl chimed in, "I want anything she has."

"I'll get one for you." Eli has a run down there tomorrow. "And for us."

"No, dog." Greyson shook his head. "Not yet."

"How about some grandkids?" Daryl looked over the card Eric had given him to help ease the news to them. "Or some...grandbabies?" He tossed them into the sink then. "So helpful."

"Well, about that." Eli sat down on the stool, and they both zeroed in on her. "It's just a maybe."

"A maybe?" Daryl didn't realize how excited this would make him. Holy shit, he would be a grandfather?

"Eli, are you serious?" Greyson took her hand.

"Of course I'm serious. I don't know anything for sure, but I spoke to Enid, and we'll have an appointment tomorrow. She has to help the new class today, so...I'll know then."

"Oh, my God." He embraced her.

"It could be nothing." She didn't want to excite him for nothing.

"It could be something." He caught her cheeks and kissed her. "We could be parents, Eli."

"I'm well aware. Why do you think I've eaten fifteen pancakes? It's not hunger. It's stress." She exhaled. "Hmm. Yeah, stress."

"Don't stress. You'll be a great mom."

"You will be," Daryl encouraged.

She smiled lightly. "Maybe."

"Maybe," Greyson aped her. "Yes."

She rolled her eyes and turned back to her breakfast. "I should've told my dads first."

"No way." Greyson tucked hair behind her ear. "We'll tell them together."

"Maybe round all you up so we can tell you. That way no one gets jealous?" She looked from Daryl to Greyson. "Deal?"

"I have no expression on a good day," Daryl jested.

"Grandpa Dixon." Eli chuckled. "You have plenty of expressions."

"Don't call me that." He shook his head.

"You have the hairs for it."

"All right, I'm leavin'." He set his cup down. "Let me know about this kid thing, all right?"

"Of course, Dad." Greyson smiled. "I love you."

"I'm movin', not dyin'."

"I still love you." He hugged him tightly. "Don't be a stranger."

"Never." He smirked at him and headed out.

Eli turned on the stool. "Are we ready for this?"

"Who knows?" He drew in a deep breath. "Ready or not for babies, I am...so ready to be with you for all of my days. I don't want anything more than to have you and whatever life we build together."

"Sounds like a proposal." She shook her head and licked syrup off her finger.

"Maybe because it is."

"Oh, come on, Grey. I'm in boxers, a tank top and licking syrup off my finger. That's not romantic."

He caught her hips. "I thought I was the romantic one."

"Exactly. Where the romance?"

"How romantic does forever sound?"

"Not at all. If I have kiss you with morning breathe again—" he kissed her then, and she groaned. "—I won't need morning sickness. For a wedding gift, I'm stealing Michonne's stash."

"Is that a yes?"

"Of course it's a yes." She rested her forehead on his. "I always would've said yes."

"Would you have, though?"

"Shut up." She laughed and kissed him. "Big day today."

"A lot of changes to come." He rubbed her outer thighs. "Are you really okay with it? Moving in with me? The marriage?"

"We practically live together now, and it's just a name change. A combination of my favorite things."

"Like our baby." He chuckled. "Man, that's weird."

"Try carrying it. I've talked to Grandma and to Rosita and Maggie. To hear them tell it, I'm in for an interesting journey here."

"Grandma..." His lips few a line at how she hugged herself at the mention of Neva. "I'm sorry."

"She was at peace. It's not okay, but it's better than other ways." She sucked in air. "Let's finish breakfast, okay?"

"Hey, I love you." He caught her gaze. "Your loss is my loss. If you need anything, I'm here. Your dads, my dad—my godparents. They all love you and are here for you. Morgan, too. They were close."

"I'm grieving, but I'm coming to terms with it. It's just hard, because there's so much she could've taught me about this. Kept me calm. What's Dad gonna say? Breathe?" She snuffled. "Would Maggie be there? Really?"

"Michonne and Rosita and Sasha would be there if you asked." He kissed her chin before kissing her lips twice. "I'm gonna be there. Books in hand, ready for the guts and visceral."

"Do you know how this works?" She couldn't help but laugh.

"I do, but I had to make you laugh. It's the best medicine."

"You ever meet Archie in his backyard? That stuff's pretty good, too."

"Eli!"

She laughed. "I'm kidding. He hordes that shit."

"That's not comforting."

"I am joking." She caught his cheeks. "I love you, too. I know you mentioned it in there somewhere, and I'm ready and excited to start this new life with you."

He sat down on the stool next to hers. "It's already been...interesting, so I wonder where this will lead us?"

"Definitely towards insanity, especially if the kid takes after me."

He narrowed his eyes. "Maybe we should get a dog."

"Nope, no dog."

"You offered it."

"I always offer to get a dog. You have a broken arm? Get a dog. You're sick? Dog. You want to hike more? Hike to get a dog. It's what I've been doing for five years now."

"Why?"

"Why not? What solution can't a dog fix, honestly?" He pointed to her stomach. "Okay, but it can better the situation."

"One thing at a time."

"Do you promise?"

"I promise." He grasped her hand. "Nothing can surprise us now."

She nodded and returned to her breakfast. They would handle anything that came their way, as they always had. They had grown up, matured. They wouldn't be caught off guard. And if they were, they would make the best of it. That's all anyone could do anyway.

– – –

Well, things were not so simple as one thing at a time. Eli and Greyson did get married a few weeks after the appointment. Daryl had given him his and Carol's rings, allowing Eli to have the necklace as her fingers couldn't currently fit the ring, and Greyson cried. He knew he would, but it was a happy time. Eli didn't bother with dresses or anything, just Greyson and their parents. Of course that didn't stop her friends from showing up with flowers and food and noisemakers. At the end of the ceremony, Annie and Judith dumped a bucket of flower petals on them, and Aaron managed to get a photo of it. It turned out nice, like the rest of the ceremony. It took place on the grass as no one had planned for it, and it was a nice enough day. They passed around the goods, and Enid brought a cake, and it was a big, semi-fancy picnic. At the end of which, Eli dropped a bomb: she was having twins.

Yes, twins, and nine and half months later, Daryl was a grandfather to two beautiful girls. They were exact opposites. The older one had light blonde hairs and green eyes and didn't cry even once. She was just content to be cleaned and rocked. And her sister came out kicking and screaming, with a dusting of red hairs on top of her head, blue eyes that she'd gotten from her dad, and she did not like to be held. She adored the bath, but the rest was a big no from her.

She calmed down after she'd eaten, though, and Aaron then new it was Daryl's grandchild. He only glared, because he was busy holding the oldest twin, and Eli smiled at the sight of her family. She announced the names of them then. The blonde baby girl who seldom when whined was name Carolyn, and Daryl smiled down at her, greeting her by name, and Greyson kissed her temple. He told them that the fussy fire pot was named Laurel, and Aaron kissed Laurel on the nose and welcomed her to world.

That was seven years ago. Things had changed immensely since then. People had dead. People had been born. People were moving town to town, crops were thriving, and battles were being fought. Not everybody wanted to make peace and settle down, so they fought. They had wins and losses, but ultimately Alexandria still stood. It was still a home to many, a safe haven in the storm, and people were proud to live and work here.

Michonne was in charge of the guards who kept order. She was often found with her five-month old granddaughter, Katelyn, as Enid and Carl had moved her into their home after Rick died a year ago. He never got to meet his granddaughter, but Michonne showered that baby with enough love for both grandparents. Kate was so in love with her family and the world. Carl couldn't have ask for anything more in a child, and Enid couldn't have asked for a better family. Them and the others who were fighting for dibs on babysitting. It was...worth it. It was definitely worth it to jump start the world again. They had more cables to attach, but hey, they had time. They had time.

Sasha had retired from her post to let Liza take it over. She was often by the pond, watching the waters and visiting her daughter, who had moved to the Kingdom a few years back. She returned often to keep tabs on her mom since her dad was gone, and she was talking her into coming back to her. Sasha was considering it, and no one could blame her. They would happily see her off, or keep her company as long as she wanted them. Though it was clear to see she leaned towards going. That was her baby girl, after all, and her only blood family. It made sense.

Rosita was still living with Tara and Denise, and they were like a married threesome. They were always together, always laughing and sharing parenting over Wyatt and his reckless behavior. Spence was around to assist, but it took the whole team with that boy. They didn't mind. Tara saw a bit of herself in him, Denise saw trouble, and Rosita saw him being a little asshole. She had to chew him out so many times last week you'd think he was seventeen, not thirty-seven. He played it cool—too cool—and Rosita had to go after Spencer. They together straightened Wyatt out, and he'd been doing better. He had a crush on Maya now, and he was trying to get her attention when she came to town, but no, nope. He had bad timing, and Tara was thinking of hooking him up with someone. Rosita protested, but the boy needed some kind of love. Denise just tried to keep the peace, and Spencer was curious to know who would want to date Wyatt. It began a running joke, though he didn't mean it like that.

Annie was now taught a class to teach others how to handle mental illness. She was doing well with it, and her students were quick studies. Denise dropped by for lectures now and then, and Judith was always near by. She claimed it was for "research purposes", but Annie knew Judith knew plenty of ways to deescalate a situation. The class became used to Judith's fixture, and sometimes she would bring Ray along. He was the product of a one-night stand that Annie deeply regretted, but he was the best thing that came out of it. He was their little bad ass, her ray of sunshine. She'd had him four years ago with one of the newcomers who...definitely put the moves on her and made to use her. Sadly, it didn't work out for either of them, as she became pregnant, and he...wasn't in..erm town anymore. She didn't want to go any further into detail, so he simply was gone to Ray, and Judy filled the space in perfectly. So what did it matter?

Sage was still managing the crops, though now he taught classes on how to grow food in case these walls should fall, and they scatter to the wind. He taught that class with Maggie and a dear friend, Jaymie. They were best friends, some thought they were closer, but they never said. They tended to their crop and helped expand the mind of little ones who wanted to learn, and they were blissful. Sage often dropped by to bring his parents fresh produce. He was a caretaker to them, even though they didn't need it. He wanted to help them out as much as he could—as did Annie. They tended to their parents and made sure they had plenty of fresh food and leaves for tea. They made sure they were comfortable, and that Ray got to spend plenty of time with them. It was...home, and Maggie felt blessed to have these children and her husband. As did they all, save for Sage who bickered with Ray. (He liked to make up facts on the plants, and Sage just had to correct him. It went on for hours. It was adorable at first, but after the seventh time, Annie just picked Ray up and carried him out of the house. Sage followed. They had to bring Jaymie into help. That did work, but now they both do it, and it's special kind of hell.)

Eugene had taken in a few apprentices to help with his work as his hands grew too shaky, his eyes to weary, and they a lot of goofy gadgets around their town. Some spread to the Hilltop and the Kingdom, but most were just art to look at. Eugene was happy to see science living on in these kids, and he was happy to have Olivia by his side to view that art with. It was more than he could have hoped for—courage, continuity, love. A peace in his old age. He was...settled. It was a good life. Well, now it was a good life. It was hell before that. Hell and blood and death, and if he could trade anything to find this sooner, he would've. Courage or not, this...was worth more than what they endured. Perhaps he only felt that way because they endured. Ah well, that was for someone else to decide. He had to get back to work.

Aaron and Eric had began knitting some necessity for the cold and for comfort, and they made their granddaughters plenty of clothing items. They drowned them in these gifts, but the girls loved it. They timed it so it wasn't just spoil them rotten, and that made Eli and Greyson happy. While they mostly knitted or play games with their granddaughters, they often walked arm in arm around town. It was always changing: a new face, a new headstone, new crop, new livestock. They were changing Aaron and Eric were thrilled to see. They were changes that made a future long after they were gone, and it also was good for the joints to walk around. And boy, did they have a big track now. But how else were they going to catch up to two seven year olds? Gotta keep in shape.

Morgan could be found by the cemetery. He tended to the headstones, keeping them feel and flowers fresh. He built a house out there and kept mostly to himself. He did come now and again to visit Carol's granddaughters, and he saw her spirit in Laurel. He taught them a few moves at their insistence, though they were mostly jumping about. It did his heart good to see them bust a move and try so hard to get it right. He couldn't help but adore them. Carol would have loved to know them. He loved knowing them and Eli and Greyson. He always meant to visit more after Carol passed, but it was a hard time for all. It had passed, and now...now he visited. He brought gifts for the girls, words of wisdom for the Eli and Grey, and he also made a delicious apple butter no one could resist. He had to share it with someone, and Eli did made the best rolls. An excuse, but he hardly needed one.

As for the towns, they had new leaders to introduce. Judith, Henry, WD would be introduced at the next meeting in the Kingdom, and Maggie, Zeke and Keela would officially resign. Judith lead in all but name. She fully intended to look to Maggie for advise, but Maggie knew she could thrive with the aid of the others. She wanted time for her husband and grandbaby. She trusted this alliance to Judith and to the others, and Judith was ready to prove herself. She had her mom to look to, if she really were struck, and her brother. She would rely on them and be there, and Maggie was proud of that. Rick would have been proud of that. Michonne and Carl were. The ones who were lost had so much to proud of. The ones who survived didn't waste their life, and the ones who were lost would always be remembered. That was the motto of Alexandria, where survivors shape the future and the ones who were lost kept them driven. They wouldn't let this world crush them. Never again.

And for Dad? Well, Dad was visiting Carolyn and Laurel, on his way to see Mom, and Eli was itching to get to the wall. They had their hands full today, that was for sure.

"Grandpa!" Carolyn hugged him tightly.

"Hey." He squeezed her tightly. "Where's Laurel?"

"I'm here." Laurel was hiding behind her mom.

"Why are you hidin', short stuff?" He narrowed his eyes at her.

"Because I tried to cut gunk out of her hair that someone," Eli sent a glare to Carolyn, "put there. I had to cut her hair short. She doesn't like it."

"Lemme see." He held his hand out. "Let Gramps be the judge of good or bad. I've lived a lot, seen a lot of bad hair."

"Don't laugh."

"I can't. Trust me, I've tried. It's like coughin' up flour."

Carolyn giggled and held onto his arm.

Laurel smiled a little at the joke and stepped out. She used to have hair down her back, but now it was above her shoulders. She looked like Sophia for a flash, but Eli and Greyson's features settled in, and he smiled softly. "It's bad! Don't laugh!"

"It's ain't bad." He waved her forward, and she edged closer and closer until he grabbed her and tickled her. She exploded into laughter, and he held her. "It looks real good. You look real classy."

"Classy?" She smiled. "That's...good?"

"It's good."

"Thanks, Grandpa." She hugged him and kissed his cheek. "You're classy, too."

"Classic, maybe."

Eli snorted a laugh, and Daryl smirked. "C'mon, girls, it's time for class." She pointed to their books. "Dad's gonna take you. I have to get to the wall, light an arrow on fire, burn stuff."

"You're not burning "stuff"." Greyson came down the stairs. "If it works, it's fireworks. If not...well, then you'll be burning stuff."

"Whoo!"

"I wanna come." Carolyn pouted. "I like fire stuff."

"You can check out the finished product." Grey scooped her up. "Maybe make some yourself one day."

"Could I?"

"You can be anything." He kissed her cheek. "Even a bird, but be careful, the flying's dodgy."

"Don't tell her that." Eli shook her head.

"I wanna be a bird!" Laurel announced. "A pretty bird, like those red ones at the pond!"

"A cardinals," Eli gently reminded her.

"Yeah, like that! It'd be cool. I'd be so pretty."

"You are so pretty." Daryl patted her stomach. "You're beautiful. You came from a beautiful woman, so you can't be anything but beautiful."

"Mommy has bad days," Carolyn told him.

"Oh, my God." Eli smacked a hand to her face, and Grey leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Defend me, don't kiss me."

"I love you, and you are beautiful. You do have bad days, but it's mostly temper."

She sighed. "I get to burn stuff. It's gonna be a good day." She said this to herself.

"Go give her a hug." Daryl nudged Laurel, who ran over and hugged her mommy. "I have plans of my own, so I gotta go."

"Aww, no!" Carolyn frowned. "Don't go."

"I have to, but don't worry, you have school, so you won't notice I'm gone."

"That's not funny."

"I never said it was. Now hit the books. Get an education." He kissed her temple while Grey still held her. "You too, short stuff."

"Yep." She bobbed her head yes.

"Let's get going. See tonight for dinner." Eli grasped one hand from each girl. "Bye guys. Love you."

"I love you, too," Greyson called to them. "I'll see you tonight."

"Bye, Daddy. Bye, Grandpa!"

"Bye." Daryl waved and chuckled at them. "They're gettin' big."

"Too big, Eli says. I... God, they were just babies yesterday, and now they're girls. They talk and scream and sass—dear god, do they sass." Daryl laughed. "But I love them more than air. If that's possible. I...I didn't think anyone could feel this happy."

"Get used to it." He removed his crossbow. "Here, fixed the strap."

"Dad, I told you—I'm not good with it."

"Maybe one of them will be."

"Probably Laurel. She's obsessed with weapons. I'd worry, but Eli has it under control. Supposedly."

"They'll be fine. Just be there for 'em, raise 'em and love 'em. It's all you can do. The rest is them."

"I know." He accepted the crossbow. "Thanks, Dad. She'll love it in eleven years."

"And not a year sooner."

"Right?" He chuckled and set it carefully on the couch. "I have to meet Wyatt for a hunt. We're lookin' for sheep. We have a few, but we need more females."

"You goin' or just advisin'?"

"Both. He heads out before me. We have family night, so I gotta be here for that. I leave in the morning."

"Stay safe."

"I will. I have...so many reasons to come back for." He smiled. "I'll be back in a week with no sheep probably and cold to the bone. We can...have some venison stew and talk, just like before."

"The girls wouldn't sleep, so you dragged me over to help put them to bed."

"Eli pushed them out of her body. I couldn't wake her up. She'd probably kill me."

"Lucky I didn't." He smirked. "All right, be sure the girls don't find those boxes I made for their birthday, okay? It's top secret."

"You have my word, Dad."

"I should go now, but you take care out there. Be safe." He hugged him tightly. "And keep an eye on Wyatt."

"I will." He rubbed his back and released him. "Walk out with me?"

"Sure. I'm headed that way."

He walked him to the gate, Wyatt greeted Daryl, and Daryl returned the greeting with a head nod. He watched them discuss something Grey had made notes on, and he went his own way to the cemetery. He spotted Maggie and Glenn on their porch, cuddling up with a blanket and Ray, reaching a story to their grandson. He saw them like that most days, sometimes his granddaughters would be there. Maggie and Glenn were enjoying this side of life, now too. He was relieved to know there was more to this life than work. There was a life to be found after. It was encouraging.

He found her grave easily, sitting down with some effort and exhaling. He set a hand on the etched name. It was only a few week old this marker, but he liked it. It was a good wood, sturdy. It would withstand time, and people would always know her name if they came. Her granddaughters would know. Of the beautiful woman they came from.

"Thirty-seven years." He bobbed his head. "We lost Rick and Abe, a handful of the older folks, but we've gotten many more. It's...a real community here now. Your son loves it. The girls. They run through the town, meeting all the new people, just smiling and waving. So open and trusting. Like kids before...only they have knives in their belts and an escape route plastered in their mind. Guess it can't all be like before, which is good. Real good."

He scratched is chin and hummed, eyes narrowing as a warm breeze blew over him. "Hmm. I put the letter you wrote me all those years ago in his pocket. He'll be able to read it now. It's done me all the good it possibly can, so it's his turn. It's their turn. I wouldn't trust it to anybody else."

Another breeze rolled over him, and he closed his eyes. It was a nice day. He lied down on the grass beside her grave and looked at the sky, his body sinking into the soft grass.

"I've been thinking about you a lot," he told the air, thinking of them. He was ageless in that moment, simply as young as he was in those memories, and he couldn't ask for anything more. "Eli said I'd see you again, and I do every night in my dreams. I don't know if they help or hurt me anymore. I just...don't know.

"Our granddaughters help me. Eli and Greyson help me. They keep me going. They always have, but now... I'm tired. They're all grown up. The girls aren't, but they'll get there with their parents by their side. They'll survive this world better than any of us could. I know it." His eyes shut, and he exhaled once. "Greyson is...all grown up, leading a good life with a family that loves and supports him. He has all we wanted for him. He can survive anythin'. Just like you. Resilient..."

I love you...

His eyes opened to the bluest sky he'd ever seen, and those eyes never shut again. His chest grew still as his heart slowed and slowed until it stopped, his lips parted as the last air escaped through them. He was just a body there on the ground then. There was nothing there to weigh him down. He had done all he could for the ones he loved, kept the promise he made, and now...peace beyond the pain.

– – –

Sunlight rained down across his face, the warmth of it coursing through his body, bringing along a joy that caressed his cheeks. A hum of happiness that bubbled along his spine. A tingle of bliss that sparked throughout his entire body. That sunlight heated the grass beneath his body, each blade parting for his limbs; they parted, not bent, at his weight, and they held him there. Floating. Free. Peacefully uplifted. It felt...like being whole. Like being with her and their son.

There was a giggle at his ear—the sound was that of honey pooling into a jar, petals twisting in a breeze, echoing gently in a cave. It was all too familiar yet so rare for him to hear. The laughter brought along with it hands. Little hands with small fingers that brushed his hair, mussing it as they went, and it wasn't a romantic gesture. It was sloppy and a bit rough. He could feel fingernails at his scalp, and he inhaled the scent of floral fabric and rich earth. It was a scent he didn't know, but he had no issue with the little fingers in his hair or that laughter. It was calming. It seemed to glide over the holes in his very soul, filling them with the sound.

Tug. There was a tug on his forearm—more little fingers. They pulled once—twice—three times, an urgency there, a child-like impatience that increased with each tug. Yet the tugs themselves weren't hard. There weren't meant to rouse him, simply alert him of another present. It felt like a dog chewing on his pant leg for play almost. It brought a smile to his mouth as the tugging came once more, a chuckle of his own twisting inside his chest and bursting to the light as it escaped through his parted lips. He couldn't help the smile now as it widened and covered his face, and the holes in his soul that had been filled with laughter seemed to seal over-complete. Filled. There was nothing more missing.

His eyes opened and narrowed at the bright overhead sun. He saw blonde hairs to the right, a braid sticking out among the neatly brushed mane, the richest of honey smile across the face of a girl lose too young. The beauty in the smile spoke of endless joys and true peace; however the bright light of the sun blocked her face, but he knew who it was. He had known her for many months, and she him, so when his hand raised to cup her cheek, she merely laugh and set her own small hand in his.

The other hair that came into his view was a faded auburn, cropped close to the shoulders, the white of her smile reflecting brighter than any sun, those freckles popping up along her jaw. Her shoulders shook at another laugh that escaped, only he didn't hear this laugh. He did feel the tear that landed on his cheek, melting away into stardust when it touched, and it spoke of regret. It spoke of apology and of mistakes.

He shook his head and reached up with his other hand to grasp hers on his head, her smile trembled but brightened. He wanted her to know what happened was by no means her fault. They were overwhelmed. The world was overrun. The events that occurred were unavoidable. Sooner or later...that bitter soon or later would have come. And who could say that later would have been gentle? It could have been like so many others who were torn from them—brutalized, unrecognizable, tormented until the last cold moment of consciousness faded. No, it was okay now. It had happened, and the rest had been laid down and buried gently in the earth.

A new sound entered his range, he shot up like a tree at the sound of it, both girls laughing at the sight and standing to embrace where it had come from. Daryl climbed to his feet, eyes surely fooling him as they found her, and he exhaled with...relief, with love, with joy, with agony, with...life. There she was.

It was all white lights around them, but there were wildflowers all around, the brightest of grasses covered the spaces in between the flowers and beyond all that was white and shimmering. But that didn't matter as much as the woman standing with a two precious, pure souls in each other, smiling at him. His family.

Sophia. She had not aged a day past twelve, looking as she had the same day they had lost her. Only lighter now, somehow. She was clean from the grim of the world, eyes sparkling in a way he had never known them to. Smile bright enough to light the world on fire, and it was directed at him. A thank you. A hello. A welcome. A...gesture of love and kindness as well as many other emotions he couldn't recognize at the moment.

Mika. She was holding onto Carol's arms that was around her chest with both hands, grinning from ear to ear, eyes twinkling and laughing as they had in life. She was spotless from the stains of her death, practically bouncing up and down to urge him nearer. She hadn't aged a day since he'd last seen her, the little girl still so little. She held a joy that seemed to only burn brighter, and she wasn't holding it back. It was on display for the world to see, and for him to have—have as they all seemed to partake in her joy. And why not? She was a beacon of it.

And...the woman between the young girls, the one who wore a sly smile, whose eyes danced playfully yet affectionately at him. She was the picture of grace—but he'd always thought so. She held herself confidently, as though she knew this moment would come, and she knew he hadn't. He wanted to laugh at that, and she smiled as though to join him.

He pushed hairs back from his face and stumbled forward, the ground rippling at his feet, but once he got going, he ran. The girls jumped in opposite directions as he drew closer, taking Carol up in his arms and holding onto her tightly for fear that this was yet another cruel dream, and he would wake up alone in a cold bed. He couldn't bear for that to happen, so he squeezed his eyes shut and begged so softly, "Please... please..." He didn't know who he was begging to, but surely someone would hear. Someone would listen. "...please... please..."

It felt like years since he'd held her. His arms keeping her body still against his, a racing coursed through his chest, and his lungs tensed with each second, become more and more unsure instead of certain. Then her voice broke the silence and the rest fell the wayside.

"I've been waiting for you," she stroked his hair, her voice as soft as velvet, "pookie."

He closed his eyes as tears felt to rose up in his eyes, but none fell, none burned across the lids of his eyes, merely the sensation.

"Now...we can watch over them together," she whispered, "always."

"Welcome home." Mika grasped one of his hands when he eventually was able to release Carol, and he shuddered, but smile back at the young girl.

"And thank you." Sophia took his other hand and one of her mother's. "Thank you."

Daryl sputtered as laughter filled his chest and burst into flames so wondrous they did not hurt. He simply widened his smile and said, "We're home." Home to be together. Home to watch over the rest. Home to be their protection. Home to simply be. Home.


End file.
